#bc I always force myself to start with it and then burn out before i get to ME2

[sun-marie]

Getting hit with a super strong urge to play ME again....

[star-girl69]

Fade Into You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you fell first, but clarisse fell harder. requested by anonymous!

a/n: decided to feed y’all today….. two fics i’m a monster that just creates and creates. this was so funny bc i kept accidentally writing angst and i had to stop myself. they’re allowed to have crushes on each other. it’s ok. this was hard anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Fade Into You - Mazzy Star

warnings: just so cutesy, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood and injury, soft clarisse i looooovvvvveeeeee you, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Your chest heaves. You’ve never ran that fast or that far before in your life. Your satyr protector runs ahead to get the healers, and you crash against some random building- a tool shed, maybe?

You groan, crouching down to clutch at your lower leg sporting a large gash running blood. You don’t remember how it happened. Maybe it was when you fell? You could have sliced it open on an unfortunately sharp stick.

You don’t even want to think about the fact that the stupid monster thing chasing you could have gotten close enough to claw at you.

“Hey, hey,” someone says, crouching down next to you. She’s wearing an orange shirt. Her hair is curly, her eyes are pretty and brown, and oxygen isn’t getting to your brain so she kind of seems like an angel. “Oh, wow,” she mutters, looking at your leg. “One second, ‘kay?”

“Wait,” you say, grabbing onto her forearm. She looks up at you.

“I’m going two steps away, dummy.” She laughs, and you’ll remember that sound for the rest of your life.

She leaves you, and you almost want to cry because you feel so alone. You’ve just been told you’re a demigod, then you were forced to run through the woods, your heart is still hammering and your leg fucking burns.

But she was right. It was only two steps, and she comes back, the door of what must be some sort of storage shutting behind her.

She leans back down and presses a towel against your gash.

You hiss.

“Sorry,”

“You’re not.” She laughs again. More beautiful music in your ears.

“I’m not,” she agrees.

You fall into silence, it’s so dark out, but you can see everything about her so clearly.

“You can stop breathing so heavily,” she whispers, the shouting of your satyr protector getting closer, along with what must be the healers. “Camp Half-Blood is surrounded by a magical barrier. You’re safe here. Well, at least, no monsters are gonna get you.

“O-okay,” you mumble. You aren’t sure if you believe her. You don’t think you believe anything anymore.

The healers push her away, you’re so so tired, and she stands up, dusting off her hands.

“Thank you, Clarisse,” one of the healers says. “We’ll take it from here.”

Clarisse.

—-

The purpose of Clarisse La Rue’s entire existence seems to be to drive you insane.

The way her arms flex when she wields her spear, the way she lifts her shirt up to dab at sweat on her brow; and the way you can see her toned stomach and the faintest hint of abs you would actually kill to touch. The way she smiles, even though it’s never really genuine, and the way she laughs when she’s making fun of someone.

She was the first person you met at camp, and you’re pretty sure she doesn’t even remember it, yet alone know your name.

It was ironic, as the daughter of Aphrodite, to be quietly pining over someone from the distance. And it sucked, but maybe you would just always have this quiet crush on Clarisse, and you learned to take it like you took your breakfast.

Until the start of this summer, when everyone came back to camp, it was alive again, and it all changed. And now you’re fucked.

—-

You smile, watching a few of the younger campers scream about how amazing the lake is. Summer’s just started. It’s so beautiful this time of year. They didn’t have as traumatic experiences as you, no monsters chased them right up to the barrier of camp. The lake is huge and so blue it seems otherworldly- probably because it is.

You slam into something.

It’s an awkward flare of limbs and muttered obscenities, but you manage to keep yourself upright by falling back into a very convenient tree.

“Sorry,” you say, looking up and expecting to make eye contact with anyone but her.

You haven’t been face to face with Clarisse in four years. You mouth snaps shut, and you’re sure you look like a terrified deer in headlights.

She’s frozen just like you.

“W-watch where you’re going,” she hisses, pushing you farther into the tree as she walks past you.

Did Clarisse just stutter?

—-

Clarisse stares at you.

You blush like you’re about to turn into a flamingo.

The cycle repeats.

—-

This year, the Ares and Aphrodite cabins were paired together to share the field for sword practice just before dinner. The sun is hidden by the trees, providing some nice shade as you frown at all the Ares kids sparring like their lives depend on it.

While Aphrodite kids are not the most naturally skilled in fighting, you’re still demigods, and you still have to know how to protect yourselves.

Matty, a Ares child and your sister Tyla’s boyfriend, already sparred three times, winning against his siblings, then sparred with Tyla once; which just ended with her getting bored after a minute and dropping her sword before jumping into his arms.

You watch random people spar. Everyone moves around you, Tyla and Matty are on top of each other next to you on the bench, everyone walks around you to collect their water bottles from the table behind you.

“Aren’t you gonna spar, Y/N?” Tyla asks, fiddling with Matty’s hands.

“No,” you laugh.

“That’s against the rules.”

You know that voice, you hear that annoyingly angelic voice in your dreams.

Clarisse sits down next to you. You can hear Tyla smiling. Only a few of your siblings who can be trusted to keep a secret know about your wretched crush. You’re probably blushing.

“Uh, what?” you say, looking in her direction but not risking actually looking at her.

“You have to spar,” she says, like it’s painfully obvious, kicking out her legs.

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” you shrug.

“Sounds like you’re scared, Y/N,” Matty muses.

You shoot him a bored look. “Sounds like you’re whipped, Matty.”

Tyla is currently in Matty’s lap, her hands in his hair.

“Oh, definitely,” he says, turning towards Tyla with a sweet smile on his face and she coos and immediately attaches her face to his.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter, turning away from the two of them having borderline sex on the bench.

Clarisse laughs.

You clench your fist, you feel like you’re gonna explode being so close to her and not able to climb up into her lap and kiss her like a woman starved.

“You still have to spar, you know.”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“Hm, no. I won’t have to.”

You finally look towards her, if only because you’re confused, but she’s looking straight out at the the distance, where a certain centaur is making his way to the fields-

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, immediately jumping up and scrambling for a sword from the pile behind you.

You turn around, hoping one of your siblings is free so you can spar with them-

The sword is ripped out of your hands.

“That one sucks,” Clarisse says, simply, while you stand there with your mouth open. She rifles through the swords. “Use this one instead.”

The one she hands you does seem a lot easier to hold. Not too heavy, not too light.

How the hell could she tell which one is best for you just by looking at you?

“Matty,” Clarisse says. “Chiron’s coming.”

Tyla and Matty both hop up, giggling at they make their way towards one of the marked circles.

As you’re left there with Clarisse, it suddenly hits you that after four years of simple indifference, she’s talking to you like she knows you. Or like she wants to know you.

You like her too much to question it. You want her too much to be bothered as to why she’s giving you five minutes of her time.

Clarisse walks away. You thought it was going to happen, so your heart feels this sort of heavy that is indescribable, but she turns around.

“Are you coming?” she asks, deadpan.

“Oh. Uh, yeah,” you say, sticking your sword under your arm and cracking your knuckles. With Chiron showing up, she leads you to the marked circle all the way at the edge of the field, the start of the woods, the very last one.

She stops and turns around, this sort of nonchalant but smug look on her face. She reaches forward and bats your hands away from each other with a single swat that leaves you so shocked from the feeling of her skin on hers that your hands fall to your sides.

“Stop that. You’ll hurt ‘em.”

Here, right in front of the trees, the sun shining through the gaps shines off of Clarisse’s tan skin and her bronze armor in a way that makes her look otherworldly.

Clarisse’s that kind of pretty where you just never want to stop staring at her. The kind of pretty where you just want to fade into her and be next to her; the kind of pretty where nothing compares to her but it just watches her too.

Like the sun behind her, it isn’t jealous, it just admires her and shines off her skin.

She’s smirking at you, her knees bending into an offensive position, her spear pointing at you.

“He’s watching,” she taunts, and you’re really not in the mood for a lecture and the loss of dessert privileges, so you copy her.

“I’m not the best-”

She spins forward, spear arcing toward you. You yelp, raising your sword up to block her spear. They slam together.

“You’ll do fine,” she smiles, so smug in a way that makes you want to slap her and kiss her all at once.

“Whatever,” you mumble as she pulls back.

But you feel a little more confident with her praise, launching a surprise attack. She seems a little shocked, but she blocks it, probably a bit closer than normal.

“Feisty,” she murmurs.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

She launches her own attack, more force behind it this time, and it’s harder to stop her, but you do, you push her back.

“It means you’re exactly like I thought you were.”

You frown, because what is she even saying, but she launches another attack, smiling brightly as you block it, her eyes never leaving your form.

It’s a blurry of your heartbeat in your ears, her smile, the clash of her spear and your sword, the rest of the field coming to life with the sound of metal on metal, wins and losses.

Your arm is growing heavy.

But you keep your eyes open, blocking her attacks and waiting for an opening you’re not sure will ever come.

Finally, she reveals her side, and you swing, your sword clanging as it hits her metal armor.

She looks down at your sword and then you.

When she looks up again, it’s never the same.

—-

“Did you let me win that first day?”

You’re in the woods with her, so many months after that first day, and it all still feels like it was yesterday. You’re laying on a blanket on the soft grass, facing each other, limbs tangled together and her arm around you.

“Hm?” she says, slightly sleepy.

“When we sparred?”

“Oh,” she smiles, yawns. “Yeah, I let you win.”

You gasp and hit her arm.

“Clar, that’s, like, horrible. Our relationship was built on lies.”

You’re the only person allowed to call her that.

She frowns. “It wasn’t. What are you talking about?”

“I was gloating over you for months, and you let me-”

“Okay, but, you still won. I just helped you a bit. That’s what a good girlfriend should do.”

“You were not my girlfriend then.”

“Yeah, but you wanted me to be. For how long? Four years?”

You roll yours eyes. “You bumped into me once and then became obsessed with me.”

She smiles against you as she kisses your forehead.

“Who wouldn’t?” she snorts. “Not my fault you bumped into me in a way no one else ever has, angel.”

“My love language is just bumping into people, I think.”

“Then you can’t bump into anybody but me. Or else I’d kill them, probably.”

“A true romantic.”

She wraps her arms around you, muscles flexing as she pulls you on top of her.

“Only for you, angel,” she says, eyes falling closed again. “‘M cold, be my blanket.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be all rough and tough?”

“Can’t be with you,” she yawns. “Love you too much. Now shush. I’m gonna fall asleep.”

“You big baby,” you mumble. “Big bad Clarisse needs to fall asleep with her girlfriend and get her full eight hours or else she’ll go on a rampage.”

“Damn right.”

Clarisse is the type of pretty that just makes you wanna fade into her. And you do, in the light of the rising moon, the light of the fading sun. You fade into her.

—-

y/n when clarisse helps her on her first day: wow, an angel 😍😍

clarisse when y/n bumps into her: wow, an angel 😍😍

ALSO CLARISSE CALLING Y/N ANGEL???? I THINK I’VE FOUND MY NEW OBSESSION Y’ALL

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 15: Powerless

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: It's time to make the fight on your terms.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.4k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence, violence with superpowers, murder, this is the most violent one, swearing, injuries, discussion of homelessness, discussion of crime

a/n: If you didn't read the warnings!! Or even if you did! This is your warning for on-screen murder. It's not very gory, but it is very much there. (spoiler, but) we kill our villains in this one lads, it was kind of the whole point of this thing :))) also most of the word count on this one is the fight so help me lmao, why do I do this to myself🤣 With that out of the way, I am super excited for this chapter!! Protective Jungkook now applies to yn maybe more than anyone and hello yes I am here for it (ofc bc I wrote it ksdfghfl) Enjoy!! And do let me know if you like it!💜💜

Jungkook’s hand was still clutched in yours as you crept together through alleyways. Far, now, from your usual haunt, you recognised none of these streets, but Jungkook never hesitated in his steps.

Sure enough, he led you round a cluster of dustbins on one corner and stopped at last in front of a heavy door. Graffiti was scrawled over the entrance and across the entire wall. If you were to arrive here in the dark, you may not have noticed the seam marking out a doorway at all.

“I thought he might choose this place,” Jungkook muttered to you, “this is where Namjoon first picked me up, after I got my powers. He operated from here until his partnerships brought in enough money for the place in town.”

He turned to knock on the door. All you could do was squeeze his hand, eyeing the surroundings. Things must have changed from before. This was where your team had begun, long before you came into the picture.

The door swung open. Jin’s face emerged, morphing instantly from hostility to relief when he saw you.

Then his eyes moved down, and lingered on your clasped hands.

If you weren’t mistaken, a faint smirk lifted his mouth, but he closed his lips matter-of-factly and forced it away. Only a telltale raise of his eyebrows made you chew your lip as he let you both past him and inside.

A murky corridor led to another sturdy door, and then you were in a larger room. It was bare of furniture, the most notable features the peeling paint and a threadbare carpet lining the space. The walls either side of you sported large windows, but the curtains remained drawn; Yoongi could be the only explanation for the room being fully lit regardless. There were no bulbs in the fixtures.

Something in your chest loosened at the sight of your whole team gathered inside. Everyone had got here before you. Namjoon was pacing in the centre. Hobi slumped against the far wall, Jimin beside him, clothes bloody but a beaming smile on his face.

At the clunk of the door, Namjoon whirled around, finally stopping his impatient strides.

All eyes fell on you. A similar reaction to Jin’s outside swept the room. Reluctantly, you and Jungkook let your fingers slide apart, although you shifted a little closer to him.

Namjoon’s stare, intense and unreadable as always, left you in such suspense that you had to look away. Unfortunately, it brought you eye-to-eye with Jimin, who was being the least subtle of them all. His cheeks were plump with the force of his smile, and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You bit back your own grin.

Namjoon, for his part, shook his head and resolved to ignore it. Or deal with it later, at least.

“What did you guys do?”

Or maybe not. Clamping your mouth shut, your eyes widened a fraction. What were you supposed to tell him?

“We, uh-” Jungkook stammered out, before Namjoon pinched his brow.

“I mean with the monster that attacked us,” he cut you off.

You sighed in relief.

“Oh, that…” Jungkook laughed, sheepish.

In three brusque strides, Namjoon marched closer, towards an old television in the corner behind you. A red glow surrounded it as he rapped on the top, and then images flickered to life on the screen.

Blue lights and smoke washed over vehicles rammed haphazardly into a street. Your street.

You didn’t bother reading the fast-scrolling banner below the picture, letting the voiceover fill you in.

“Reports were made of Bolt heading to stop a creature, which he claimed to have escaped from within an operating villain base…” the reporter read, “but on arrival, the beast appears to have been tamed. No damage was sustained to surrounding properties, and a team is working to sedate and control it…”

The screen flashed to a blurry close-up of Frank as you had left him, snoring among the wreckage.

“How the hell did you stop it?” Namjoon demanded, the device blinking back to silence as he turned back to you and Jungkook.

“Well, Y/N, um…” Jungkook gestured for you to take over.

“It’s one of Kuyang’s,” you explained, “there’s this patch behind his ear, it sends him right to sleep. It’s just… a bit difficult to get to.”

“That thing has ears?” Jin echoed.

Namjoon folded his arms and took in the both of you.

“Good work, then. That was lucky. At least it’s lessened some of what Bolt’s trying to pin on us. But this was more than a simple attack.”

He paced again to the centre of the room.

“Bolt doesn’t act on accident; he’s showed us that much. He tried to take us out directly today. He wants to eradicate us. That’s his message, and it’s final. He’ll keep coming for us until one side is destroyed.”

His words bristled around the room, but not with fear. You sensed the rage and determination you shared with your brothers.

You weren’t backing down.

If Bolt was going to make it us vs them, you would just have to win that fight.

Turning, Namjoon met eyes with Jin, who stepped forward to stand beside him.

“At least we know what Bolt has at his disposal,” Jin said, “and what he doesn’t. We know the weapons we’re up against, so I think we can take on any fighters he sends our way. What really counts is the man himself.”

“We’re going to him, right?” Yoongi spoke from his place leaning against the curtain. “I don’t want to wait for him to come after us again. He wants the fight; we make it on our terms.”

Regarding him seriously, Namjoon nodded.

Meanwhile, Jin’s words were stirring something else in your mind. Something you had forgotten in the blur of defeat and panic that had ensued since your fight with Monsoon.

We know what weapons we’re up against…

“Wait,” you breathed. It was enough to snag the group’s attention, tense gazes all finding you. Closest was Jungkook, frowning down at you.

You gulped, and met their eyes.

“When I went after Monsoon,” you began, “I found the shield ray, even if I didn’t get hold of it. But that wasn’t all… He had a collection. And I recognised another one, too. I thought I had burned it up, in the parking lot, but there was another one.”

You had to admit that some nerves crept in at the unsettled silence that followed. Namjoon stared.

“No…” he shook his head, “you’re saying they have the Razer?”

“The one that takes your powers…” you replied, “yes.”

Namjoon swore.

“You definitely destroyed it?”

“Without a doubt,” Jungkook cut in, “I felt the shockwaves in that fight.”

You nodded along with him. Namjoon wasn’t asking to doubt you, though, and took you at your word. You had seen the broken, lifeless shell of that awful gun. No, they had gained another somehow.

“They must have got hold of a blueprint, or a prototype, somehow,” Jin suggested.

“However they did it, it’s best we know what we’re going up against,” Namjoon resolved. He looked around, meeting everyone’s eyes. “You all know what it looks like?”

Nods met him.

“Then watch your backs. We’re still doing this.”

“What was it like?”

By now, you were acquainted with the view from this spot, sitting against the wall in a corner of this place. But how different had it been, when the boys still lived here?

“Hm?”

Jungkook turned to you, resting his head back against the wall. The two of you sat not far from the others, all of you sitting around waiting for Hobi to heal up and for Jin to get whatever results he was hoping for from a beat-up laptop he had pulled from somewhere. You had no idea if he had brought it with him, found it in here, or stolen it. You wouldn’t ask, either.

Though the room was wide open now, you still sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook like you had in that cramped hallway. It was difficult to keep the same feeling at bay too. His presence lit you up where you touched, but in front of the others you had to keep up some semblance of sanity, and keep from pouncing on him.

“When you first came here,” you forced your eyes away from his softly quirked lips, and to the room. “What was it like?”

To your dismay, his brows pinched into a frown. He eyed the walls, traced them up to the ceiling with its patches of damp.

He shifted his arm against yours in a shrug.

“It was a roof over my head,” he murmured, “at first.”

“Oh,” you stammered, quiet in your shock, “sorry…”

With a blink and a shake of his head, you watched him pull himself back to you. He shot you a disarmingly genuine smile, albeit small.

“Not your fault,” he assured you, “I never told you.”

Instantly, you knew what he was talking about. Just like you, Jungkook must have first moved in after he got his powers. Of course, the balm of the support from (most of) the others had eventually smoothed over the wounds that heralded your arrival.

They wouldn’t be forgotten though.

Nor would you forget your brothers’ wounds. Jungkook had yet to entrust you with his story, the knowledge of those probably painful moments. He had hardly let you near it, all this time.

“You don’t have to-” you said hastily, but he surprised you.

You spotted his jaw tighten, but his voice was level.

“After my dad… I had nothing. The first time I met Namjoon, I didn’t have powers. I did a job for him. I used to steal; it was about the only thing I could do. My dad taught me to fight, once, after he was home late and some older kids tried to break into our place. I fell in with a certain crowd, but half of them were backstabbing sneaks.”

You weren’t sure he even knew he was scowling as he said that. Despite your horror, you couldn’t break your gaze away from Jungkook as he told the story, spelling out what you had always wondered.

He looked over to Namjoon then, snarl easing.

“I guess he thought I was good. He gave me more jobs, paid good money. It wasn’t one of his where it happened. We were taking some kind of reactor – I can hardly remember the plan. Someone wanted power out to rob a string of banks, I think… All that matters is it went wrong. It wasn’t safe, and it… blew up.”

Your chest tightened along with his voice, hearing him straining to keep his throat from closing.

He slumped back against the wall then. Fixed his eyes on yours.

“I got the brunt of it. Two of the others died. One of them ran away when I woke up and asked him to help me. And there was this… this burning I didn’t understand…”

“I remember,” you whispered.

Slowly, he closed his lips. His eyes bled with recognition. You felt it too, conflict constricting your chest. Appreciation that you could share the feeling, understand one another without the need for explanation, mingled with the strain in your heart of knowing he had been subjected to the same torture.

Here you both were, on the other side of it.

Jungkook took a bracing breath, shifted up where he had sagged down the wall – towards you.

“Namjoon found me.”

His voice brightened almost immediately, and he was looking around the room with new eyes of the old memories.

“V came along not too long after I did… It was the boys that made it home. They still do.”

A soft smile took your lips without thought, and you followed his gaze fondly.

The moment your eyes fell on Jin, you saw him perk up, straightening his back. Then he let out a cheerful “Aha!”.

He was the centre of attention that instant, and went on without prompting, fingers still clacking away at the laptop.

“I managed to get into our own system – and Bolt’s taken something!”

“And that’s… good?” you questioned his jubilant tone.

Keeping his eyes trained on the screen, he quirked his head.

“It means I can see where he’s taking it.”

Namjoon came to hover over Jin’s shoulder until they were satisfied. Soon enough, you found yourself refreshing the mental list of what you were about to go up against.

“If he even manages to get it up and running before we get there, it only has three charges per round. This is the first time I’m glad I haven’t improved it yet,” Jin chuckled, telling you about the newest addition to Bolt’s arsenal, the one he took right from your lab. “Jungkook or YN’s powers will take it out easily.”

And so he went on, through power-extending shurikens to the shield rifle Monsoon had stolen, all the things that had slipped through your fingers and how to defeat them.

“And the Razer…” Jin landed on the last one, but tailed off and exchanged a look with Namjoon.

“Just don’t get hit,” the leader said.

Several eyebrows raised in trepidation. You shuddered with an echoing memory of the gun’s piercing cold.

“Hobi,” Namjoon turned away from the subject, “how are you healing up?”

Shifting to sit away from the wall, Hope pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal the skin where Frank had slashed him. It was still pink, but completely closed by now.

“Better,” he beamed.

“Okay,” Namjoon fixed him with a stern eye, “but check in. If it’s putting you at a disadvantage, I want you out of there.”

“Yes boss,” Hobi replied with a grin and a mock salute.

From that alone, you were sure he was feeling better.

“I say” – Jin shut the laptop with a clack – “we’ve waited long enough.”

You couldn’t help but agree. It felt good to get on your feet again. Inside your chest, the warmth of your powers bubbled alongside your bristling determination. Just enough for you to feel them, to assure you.

A private smile stole across your face, and you turned towards Jungkook.

He found you first. A gentle touch on your wrist made you glance down. His thumb ran firmly, softly, over the skin there, and when you looked up his eyes were dark and affirming.

You realised then, that his defensive ring of fire had never burnt away. You were only on the other side of it, one of the ones he accepted in. His look was one of complete trust. When he nodded, you nodded back.

Let’s do this.

Having been inside for some time, the lot of you know marched out to find it night, the city drenched in the darkness of who-knew-what hour. Your ‘march’ was actually more of a light-footed sneaking. Setting off any alarm bells just yet would blow the operation. Together, your group wove through shadows out of this part of town, unnoticed thanks to the camouflage Yoongi effortlessly provided.

Up ahead, Jin checked around corners and led you on, the buildings rising further above you at every turn. Neon screens flashed through the night in these neighbourhoods, where the inhabitants had money to spare.

The walk couldn’t have been long, but you were a world away from the run-down hideout by the time Jin stopped, facing one of many high buildings of polished glass and chrome.

“So this is it?” Jimin asked, head tilting back.

Your eyes, instead of trailing up the building like Jimin’s, found a looming structure beside it. A pylon planted firm in the ground, standing just taller than the building itself, up to a spidery convergence of wires webbed over the city rooves.

“Well, that sure is handy for someone like him,” Jin scoffed.

Hobi rolled his neck, already striding towards it.

“And now it’s handy for us.”

His leap up three rungs was unnecessary, really. The rest of you followed behind like the mere mortals you were, clambering as silently as you could between the intersecting beams, the metal cold beneath your hands.

You looked back once, finding Namjoon and Jin still on the ground.

“I’ll see you afterwards,” Namjoon was telling him grimly, “all of us have to fight.”

“I know,” Jin agreed. Then he punched him in the arm. “And I had better, alright? See you afterwards, I mean.”

Your leader nodded, then stepped forward to the pylon. You looked ahead and pushed on upwards.

It shouldn’t have surprised you to find Bolt in a penthouse. Following the others, you hopped from the pylon onto the skyscraper’s rooftop; only Namjoon stayed behind. It wasn’t so tall as Kuyang’s lab had been, but it felt miles above. In the darkness, a few glimmering lights dotted the edges of what appeared to be an eerie garden of sorts, although no plants were in sight. Dark tile slabs ran underfoot, broken up by sculptures you couldn’t discern beyond shadows.

The rooftop was halved, your group gathering on the lower segment while a set of stairs rose another floor to more of the same; Bolt’s viewpoint over the city.  Though your eyes darted between the statues, each one playing tricks on you as if they were people watching, your gaze rested eventually on two large glass doors beside the stairway.

A distant light from further inside showed just enough for you to see beyond the glass. An entire wall was decked in little plates, things you vaguely recognised as city awards, only seen on the screens and papers.

A trophy for each life Bolt had taken would have filled the whole building, let alone a feature wall, you thought.

The small huddle of you poised still, hunters, waiting. In the last few seconds before that silence would be broken, you felt Jungkook step behind you.

“This ends now.”

The voice coming over your shoulder was made of everything he was. Electricity, cold and bitter like metal, aflame with determination. The rows, fists and shouting, the tentative midnight whispers, his kisses.

His hurt and all the things he covered it with.

Namjoon didn’t even have to ask his soldiers if they were ready. He raised his arms and slammed palms back down against metal, and a red glow silhouetted you all like a sinister halo.

Everything went dark.

The meagre light inside the property blinked off. The glare of signs across the road plunged away to nothing. Only the dotted perimeter lights, which must run on for emergencies, remained.

Footsteps behind you brought Namjoon through the pack to its head.

Ahead, something moved beyond the glass. Your gaze sharpened on it as the handle turned, the door swinging soundlessly outwards.

While not in full gear, as he had been when he first attacked you, Bolt’s blue mask was in place. Otherwise, he wore dark, comfortable clothes. Internally, you celebrated the small evidence that you really had caught him unawares.

“I should have known,” his voice carried over to you, inflated with arrogance. “Flush out the rats and they’ll have nowhere left to run.”

In your ear, a sharp inhale sent your eyes to Jungkook for a second. His fists tightened at his sides.

“You’ve taken enough, Bolt,” Namjoon spoke. If you didn’t know him, you may not have caught the dark rage burning below his even words.

Then he raised his arms, stretched them towards the man in blue.

A great gust whisked from behind you, snatching at your hair, but you stood firm. In front of you, Bolt was thrown backwards by the air, colliding with the glass behind him.

The starting gun had been fired.

As your enemy crashed through a shower of glass, you began to run. Shards of it scattered, glittering, under your pounding feet. You skidded to the doorway just as Bolt drew back to his feet in the shadows.

Raising your arms to continue the offensive, you were cut short. A startling flash blazed in your vision. In that split-second, it illuminated a smiling Bolt, gun ready at his hip. Just long enough for your heart to sink.

The shield rifle, the very one you had failed to protect.

It seemed only right that you should pay the price.

Its impact slammed against you, wrenching your outstretched arm backwards. The pale sphere it had fired, glowing and crackling, caught hold and took you with it, ensnaring your wrist like a constricting snake. Helpless to detach yourself, your body flailed through the air behind it.

Someone called your name.

Just as fast, you jerked to a stop. Below you, your feet flung out above nothing. Your heart jumped.

Looking around wildly, you found the forcefield had snagged on the wall, stuck fast to it just like it did your arm. It was the only thing holding you here.

Somewhere behind you, above you, grunts and thuds assured you that the fight continued. For now, you had to get out of this trap before Bolt could reach you again, attack you in this helpless position.

“Y/N!”

Jimin’s voice rushed closer. It was an effort to crane your head up to see him. Pale pink hair poked over the ledge.

“Grab on!” he called.

You didn’t hesitate. Swinging yourself up with a kick, you grabbed desperately for the hand he reached out. Finding it clumsily, you clutched to his wrist with clammy fingers. Next moment, he hauled you up, clamping both hands around yours until you rolled over the wall and your feet stumbled against solid ground.

But you still weren’t free.

The forcefield bit at your arm when you tried to drag it free. You cursed.

“It’s just energy,” Jimin spoke, frowning at the luminescent mass.

Then he took a breath, frowning in concentration. With one push of his hand, the sphere shifted, as if it was simply a ball from training.

Resisting, you pulled the other way. For a second, it constricted harder, making your heart clench in dread of following it. Then all at once you were falling free, tumbling to the floor as the forcefield rolled out of sight over the edge.

Hurried hands tugged you up and you were wheeling around to face the battle.

“Thanks,” you quickly clapped Jimin on the shoulder. A brief grin from him, and you dived together back towards the fray.

More shining energy fields pulsed against one wall, but it seemed the others had dodged them. You ran past the discarded weapon on the floor. But there were more where it had come from.

A bright blue jet, just like your own, fizzled against a statue and sent it thundering to the floor. Behind it, Yoongi leapt out of the way just in time. He came sprinting towards Bolt, eyes burning white.

In an instant, the hero let out a yell, clutching his eyes. Staggering, he slipped onto one knee. But in his blind panic, he whirled around, lashing out again even without a target to aim at.

Blazing blue roared outwards. Namjoon had been marching towards the fallen Bolt, but was forced to duck for cover. The lightning sliced clean through the top of the stone figure he hid behind.

Even as Bolt’s attack died, something else caught your eye. Fast as a spark from a flame, he tossed a blade into the air. It whistled, carving a streak of seething blue through the night.

A shout shot echoed across the rooftop, straight to your veins. Yoongi.

Falling from his invisible cloak of darkness, you saw a glowing blue shuriken whizz along his back. The current flew outwards across his body, throwing his pained grimace into haunting relief. The blade skittered, useless, to the ground, having wreaked its injury.

“Yoongi!” you screamed as he fell, blue light dancing over his spasming body.

Staring in horror as you were, the next flash of blue nearly caught you. Running on pure instinct, your body retaliated before you did. Snarling, your powers leapt from your palms, clashing against Bolt’s in mid-air. Blue on blue.

In the flare of sparks, Bolt smiled slowly. Never breaking the connection, he took a step forwards, cocking his head.

“So it’s true,” he spoke, “I heard about you.”

Heart hammering now, you pushed back with all your might, feeling his hostile powers wrestle with yours. They may look the same, but they felt all wrong.

“Tell me,” he took a step closer. You barely resisted the urge to draw back. “How did you do this?”

Steeling yourself with a breath, you unleashed a surge of rage, your electricity hissing through the air. It should have satisfied you to feel his power startle, stutter at the sudden attack.

All you could do was glare. He had no idea. He never thought twice about who he killed, what he took.

But as you stared, there was movement behind him. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on Bolt, willing his attention to stay on you. As it was, he had no idea that Jungkook was stalking towards him.

“I didn’t do this,” you blurted out, needing to keep him focussed. Buying Jungkook time as his face came into sharper focus, closer to the battling blue lights between you and Bolt. “You did this to me.”

You spat your words with all the venom locked inside, ready for one last push as you watched Jungkook raise both arms-

WHOOSH.

You snapped the connection, staggering backwards as Bolt whirled around.

It had not been gold that fired. In a blur, Jungkook was slammed to the ground by a column of water crashing into him.

Everyone on the rooftop turned to its source.

“Shit-” you heard someone curse.

“No,” you breathed.

Feet touching to the rooftop up ahead, among a flood of water, was Monsoon.

Another cold, arrogant grin met you all. You stared in horror. Only Bolt laughed, stepping forwards to climb to his ally’s side. They faced you all from the staircase, looking down.

Pushing himself to his feet, Jungkook’s eyes blazed gold beneath dripping strands of hair.

“Jungkook! No!” you cried, but too late.

Gold split the night, but against Monsoon there was no use. Water surged instantly towards him again, and though your powers protested, burning in your chest with the need to act, you could only stand by. You couldn’t fight him.

Shimmering water engulfed the gold strands. Soon they would immobilise Jungkook, the moment it made contact…

Instead, a red glow sprung up in front of Jungkook with only a split-second to spare, sending the deluge spraying around the shield.

“Let’s start with you, then,” Monsoon smirked.

When you looked back to him, you swore your heart stopped beating.

Raised in one hand, pointing straight at Jungkook, was the Razer. Its eerie white form stood out starkly against the night sky.

The dead white light at its centre jumped to life. A whirring began, menacing and low. It rose at the same rate the strands of light started spinning within the sphere, preparing to drain its victim of all power.

It was stupid. It was stupid, you had already failed once before. You had watched Jungkook fail just seconds ago. There was nothing you could do, yet you had to do something.

You fired at Monsoon.

Easily, he raised his free hand to deflect.

But as the water rushed towards you, Jimin sprinted towards Monsoon. Thrusting an arm forward, he sent a fallen statue flying between you, a silhouette. Your eyes widened in realisation.

The inundation hit the stone with such force, you almost thought it would crack. But no – it sent the writhing water shooting straight back at its commander.

Darting forward, you shot without hesitation. Blue burst from you. The bright tendrils wove into the stream, flying like darts through the current and towards Monsoon. There was no time for him to react; only a fleeting shadow of shock stole over his face before the electricity caught him and his eyes rolled back.

You knew how it felt for your muscles to lock in place, for your body to leave your control entirely. You watched as it took hold of him, too, and smiled.

The force of the water, with no way to resist it, knocked him backwards until the floor no longer held him. A blond blur flew past you, just before the white-clad figure that was Monsoon dropped out of sight forever.

Lowering your palms, your chest heaved. Adrenaline rushed through you; this still wasn’t over.

Your eyes narrowed in on Hobi, whose feet made impact with the roof on landing. Clutched in his arms was the Razer, scooped from Monsoon’s arms just in time.

Bolt, apparently, had got over his ally’s demise already. His grief lasted the space of one step, away from the edge, before he swung round. Like you, he honed straight in on the weapon.

And then everyone moved at once.

Diving out of the path of a sinister blue bolt, Hobi rolled away on the floor. Bolt himself thudded closer, making your friend dodge again, leaping up and out of his reach. The air crackled by Bolt’s hand, but before he could summon electricity to chase Hobi down, a sheet of purple fire swept like a curtain in front of him, the fleeting shadow of V disappearing within the flames.

You were already sprinting at the enemy when Hobi touched down next to you. Stumbling around, he glanced behind him with a curse.

Confused, your eyes first darted over your friend. He didn’t seem to be more hurt, so then what-?

A clatter of metal rung through the spitting flames. Frantically searching, you quickly found the deathly white streak of the Razer on the ground, spinning away. In the desperate fumble to escape Bolt, Hobi must have dropped it.

It didn't matter how it got there. Darting to the side, you changed course towards the weapon. But you weren’t the only pursuer.

Bolt was a silhouette in front of the fire, growing rapidly in the corner of your vision. Your feet thudded as fast as you could make them, heart pounding out the same rhythm, and you were almost there, but Bolt was coming in fast-

A flash of blue. Instinctively, you pulled back, letting it cut through the air in front of your nose. Precious distance you couldn’t afford to waste.

Throwing your weight back further, you followed your body’s momentum. Your hip met the tile and you let your speed carry you, sliding over the tiles and kicking out-

Your toes met the weapon hard, snatching it from right under Bolt’s fingertips as he lunged down. His furious glare shifted to you, but he did not stay to fight. Both of you watched, panting, as the white gun hurtled over the staircase, resounding against each step out of sight.

Then Bolt was off again with you not far behind, jumping to your feet. Stairs flew beneath you as you surveyed the scene.

Bolt charged a decisive line towards the still-falling gun. Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook assembled on the lower part of the rooftop, ready to strike.

With relief, you saw Jimin move first. Raising one hand, he brought the gun arcing through the night. Though you kept running, something loosened in your chest the closer it came to the hands of your leader.

So focussed on the gun as you were, you almost missed it. Just as the Razer landed firmly in Namjoon’s grip, something glinted in Bolt’s hand, inches ahead of you.

A sizzle of blue. Another shuriken sliced through the air. Namjoon dodged to one side, the blade sailing past him, a spark of blue losing itself in the darkness of the city.

But another blade followed.

Namjoon clearly decided not to hang around. The low whirring began again, piercing your senses straight away as if it was a chainsaw roaring. White light pounced against the glass containing it. Close as you were to Bolt, you couldn’t help the jolt of nerves fizzling in your chest.

Lifting his gaze from the weapon, Namjoon’s eyes widened a fraction. There wasn’t enough time to react. The blue lightning raced straight for his heart.

The image of Yoongi, stricken and fallen, flashed through your mind then. Helplessness burned through every part of you – even as you pushed yourself to sprint, there was no catching it.

Until a shadow leapt in the way. Obscuring your view of Namjoon, they turned in mid-air to face the shuriken.

Jungkook.

Your heart punched into your throat. In a single beat, the blade found its target.

A twitch of pain spasmed across Jungkook’s face. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. Your trembling heart choked you, the world falling silent for a deathly second.

Then his feet thumped onto the roof, the clatter of the thin blade following a beat later. Though he stumbled against the outer wall, he remained standing. Utter, blank shock painted on his face, he brought a hand up to his chest.

There, a thin red line was spreading where he had been cut. Nothing more.

Heart still hanging on a precipice, you were suspended in your shock. Numbly, you glanced down to the still-spinning shuriken lying powerless on the floor. Powerless. No more sparks surrounded it. No hint of blue, no colour at all.

Where a heartbeat ago there had been panic, now came no movement at all. Your lungs ached for air after your short race, but you hardly dared to touch the silence by breathing. Shakily, you drew in cool air, turning, as you all did, towards Bolt.

Standing in front of the shattered entrance to his home, he was equally still.

You expected some kind of joke. For him to laugh in your faces, or lash out again.

Instead, he looked down in horror. His hands steadily rose, tuning over in front of him. A downwards turn tugged at his mouth when he raised his face.

Then it turned into a snarl, and he lunged, flinging a hand straight towards you. Everyone on the rooftop jumped.

To your shame, you almost stepped back. Phantom burning, from months ago as you fell from a skyscraper like this one, rocketed through your mind. But the pain you braced for never came. No flash of blue. You stayed rooted there, disbelieving eyes tracing the air which should have been ablaze, and instead was dead and dark.

And you noticed another thing: the whirring had stopped.

Glancing to one side, you saw Namjoon lowering the Razer, face hard and a grim glint in his eye.

“You!”

Bolt’s voice brought you sharply back to him. His mouth twisted into a snarl, and his voice was sharp.

To your alarm, his rage-filled eyes, though devoid of blue, were fixed right on you.

“Give them back to me! Right now!”

With a sudden start, he marched towards you. You actually stepped back this time, in no hurry to be the target of his new warpath.

“You- I gave you those powers!” He ranted, “My powers! You can give them back to me the same way. Do it now!”

Disgusted, you could only shake your head.

Another step and he was right in front of you, reaching for you. That same face which hadn’t looked at you twice when he sent you hurtling to your intended death. The man that had since become the face of your elusive fear, sending others to attack you, never getting his hands dirty unless for a media-worthy cause.

His hand on your arm made your skin crawl.

“I made you what you were,” he pleaded – you saw it now for what it was – “you were nothing before I gave them to you-”

“Get off me!” you snapped, yanking your arm roughly from his grip. When he made to reach for you again, you barely kept control of your powers. You were sure to let just enough slip through that your eyes would light up blue with a reminder.

It clearly found its mark. He stilled, stunned. He had never been in this position before, unable to fight, and he would do well to remember it.

“I was someone before you,” you spoke, low and level.

Bolt seemed robbed of words.

Then his glare flicked to the side. Jungkook stalked up to stand beside you, drawing himself up to his full height. There was a special venom in his eyes, reserved only for the man who had ruined his life.

“Don’t touch her,” he spat.

Something in Bolt snapped. Closing his mouth, his feet scrambled beneath him. He hurried in the opposite direction, staggering a few desperate steps backwards before wheeling around, racing to get inside.

You didn’t move. Any one of you could easily kill him from where you stood – in any case, it wasn’t needed.

Someone was waiting for him.

Stepping from the dark hallway, broken glass crunching underfoot, Jin emerged into the dim light of the rooftop.

He reared back a fist, and brought it down in a blur to collide with Bolt’s face. The moment the fallen hero hit the ground, Jungkook strode forwards. Bolt’s usually vivid mask was finally dislodged, lying dull against the tiles where Jungkook’s boot crushed it against the floor.

Calmly lifting a hand, he fired gold, but not right at Bolt. Instead, you watched the molten light latch around a large shard of glass. The burning ring made dappled gold ripple in the glass, a golden dagger, the brightest thing on this dark rooftop.

Unsteadily, Bolt was getting his hands beneath him again. His ragged panting almost stirred pity in your chest. Almost.

Jungkook pushed his palm forwards, his power moving with him. The dagger struck Bolt’s back. You did not smile, but watched as it plunged ruthlessly into him, making his back arch and drawing a pitiful cry from his mouth.

No one was around to hear it, or to care. Tonight was as desolate as the night you had woken, alone and afraid, in a dark alley, left to die.

It wasn’t painless, but it was quick. Looking to Jungkook as Bolt fell silent, you found his hardened face awash with gold, like it was made of the metal itself. Only the twitch of his jaw as he yanked the glass from its victim belied the impression.

A thump as the body slumped among a soft chorus of grating glass.

The gold faded from Jungkook’s eyes. They turned to you, and you took his hand.

Thank you for reading this far into the series and sticking with it!!💜💜

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[moremaybank]

jj x john b’s little sister will always have a special place in my heart. Especially when she’s been pining over him since they were kids, the built up tension, the way they act like a couple but they’re not, ugh!

no bc this is my favourite trope with jj 😭 it's just so fitting and honestly nothing hits like a good brother's best friend trope (at least for me)

You were lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear your front door open, followed by the clunking of heavy shoes against the hardwood floors as they walked their way through your home.

At first, you panicked. Was this it? Were you about to get murdered in the comfort of your own home, warm and cozy in your bed? But then it clicked. There was only one person you knew who had loud footsteps like that. He had messy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, a cheeky grin. He was most likely wearing one of his worn out cut-offs, and black timberland boots.

Those staple shoes of his were definitely the culprit.

Your doorknob twisted open slowly, and there JJ was. Stumbling into your room with a hazy smile on his face. He tripped over his foot upon entry, leading him to kick his boots off clumsily.

"J, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were Freddy Krueger or something, jeez."

He plopped onto your bed, using one hand to pluck your phone from your hand and toss it to the other side of your bed. He laid between your legs, resting his head against your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach instantly. Being this close and cozy wasn't new for the two of you; you'd been touchy since you were kids. Endless piggyback rides, cuddling sessions during movie nights, playing with each other's hair, that was just the two of you in your normal state. That's what happens when you've known someone since you were in elementary school.

"Hi," he murmured, nuzzling into you as he got comfy. "You smell good."

Your brows furrowed as you held back a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

"No." A moment of silence passed, and then he spoke up again. "Maybe."

"Okay, and where's my brother?"

"Ditched me for his kook girlfriend."

You hummed in response, starting to weave your fingers through his sun-kissed locks. You heard him sigh in content, and he hooked his legs over one of yours.

"D'you wanna get high?" JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Your hand crept down to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb gently. "I think you're intoxicated enough, Maybank."

He picked his head up, his chin now resting where the left side of his face was previously smushed against. He smiled, his eyelids half closed. "You're always takin' care o'me. So sweet, like candy."

"You always need to be taken care of," you joked in response. The small huff of laughter he let out was like music to your ears. You could listen to it on repeat for the rest of your days, and it'd always be your favourite soundtrack.

His eyes seemed to glimmer as he zoned in on yours again. He released a sigh, before reaching up and cupping your cheek. "You're so beautiful."

Your heart fluttered. You were used to JJ's unrelenting flirtations, but he'd never said anything like that to you. It'd always been lookin' good, mini routledge, or we should makeout. y'know, for science.

"Don't. You're only saying that 'cause you're drunk. It's mean."

His brow arched. "Me thinking you're beautiful is mean? I don't get it."

"It's mean because it's just the alcohol talking," you explained. "You don't really mean it, J."

"I do mean it. Why do you think I'm starin' at you all the time? I have to force myself to keep my eyes off you."

He was pulling at your heartstrings, saying all the things you'd been longing to hear from his mouth for as long as you could remember. It almost felt cruel; the fact that he could say these things so casually as if the memory wouldn't be burned into your brain until the end of time.

"Go to sleep, JJ. We'll talk in the morning," you spoke, eyes darting away from his as you changed the topic.

JJ removed himself from your hold, scooting up next to you and using his index finger and thumb to guide your gaze onto him. His eyes were softened, so vulnerable as they looked at you. He wore a small pout, too, only making you want to plant a kiss on it and wash it away.

"I know 'm an idiot. But one of these days, I'm gonna get my head outta my ass and tell you that I got a major thing for you," he said. "You're gonna be my girl, princess. I'm not sure of much, but I am sure of that."

And with that, he laid his head down on the pillow next to yours, slinging an arm over your waist and cuddling into your side.

"Good night, beautiful."

concepts

[talaok]

Hey, I have this huge exam next week, it’s the biggest exam of my life so far and I’m stressed af. I consider myself a chill person but I’m feeling beyond anxious all the time and I have never felt this stressed in my life. It’s so hard to take care of myself rn like I don’t feel like eating but I have to because I’m nauseous and then I can’t find anything I’d like to eat and it makes me more anxious IT’S A VICIOUS CYCLE I SWEAR AND APPARENTLY I HAVE TO EAT EVERY FOUR HOURS EVERY DAY BC I’M A HUMAN??

anyway, sorry for oversharing. I was gonna ask if you could write sth with pedro taking care of stressed reader, making sure she eats and is hydrated, filing up her coffee, cuddling with her when she has crying sessions wiping her tears and telling her everything’s gonna be okay and he’s gonna be there for her with every step no matter what. I literally crave comfort right now, and I’d be so grateful if you could write something 🥹

I love how caring and kind you are with asks, thank you so so so much for being here. Love you 💕💕💕💕

pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

a/n: Im so so sorry love, im one hundred percent sure youll do great, but in the meantime, i hope this will make you feel a little bit better, love you💗💗 (this ask did skip the line bc if i posted it two weeks from now it wouldn't have made any sense)

He didn't know how or when, but all of a sudden, all you did was study.

And at first, he didn't really think anything of it, you'd told him about the exam and about how important it was, so he understood, but what he didn't expect, was just how much you'd be studying.

You raised your head only to answer him, and even when you did, it was monosyllabic.

"Have you eaten anything?"

"no"

"did you drink any water today?"

"not really"

And no matter how many times he'd tell you how bad for you that was, the next time he asked, the answers were always the same. And that's exactly why by the second day, he had stopped asking and instead, started doing.

He had conceived a whole plan of attack.

For the days when he, unfortunately, had to go to work, he left two full water bottles and a glass on your desk, and an already cooked lunch in the fridge, so that all you needed to do was heat it up in the microwave.

But on the days when he didn't have to go to work, he took it upon himself to become your personal assistant, and your worst nightmare altogether.

No matter how much you complained, he forced you to take a break at least every two hours, he made sure you were drinking the water he poured into your glass, he made you coffee every time you asked, (always only after having reminded you that you didn't need more coffee but more sleep) and finally, he cooked or ordered all of your favorite foods in the hopes that it would make you feel more like eating (which never seemed to work).

Today, thankfully, he got to stay home, so for the thousand time, he walked into the studio to check in on you.

"hey there" he smiled, watching you half-heartedly wave at him before returning your full attention to your book "I brought you a snack," he said, placing the apple slices on your desk and making a soft laugh flee your mouth.

He had turned into a soccer mom, but god it felt good to hear you laugh again.

He got behind you to start gently massaging what he was sure must have been sore shoulders.

"how's it going?"

"bad" you grumbled, relaxing the tiniest bit at his touch

"I'm sorry" he murmured, leaning down to kiss the crown of your head "you wanna take a break?"

"It's not been two hours yet"

"I know, but I think it would be good for you" he explained "We could take a walk maybe"

You sighed, closing your eyes "I can't"

"sweetheart" he cooed, crouching down to be at your level and turning your chair towards him "you're gonna burn yourself out if you continue like this"

"I know but..." you glanced back at your notes "I can't fail this exam"

"and you're not gonna" he immediately reassured you

He watched something happen behind your eyes, 

"not if I keep taking breaks"

"baby-" he murmured, taking your hand in his and watching as your mouth curved downwards for the quickest moment 

"I just-I'm so anxious," you said, your voice breaking "I-I can't fail- I just can't"

"hey hey hey" he cooed, his eyes looking for yours "Sweetheart, it's ok"

And that was the moment you couldn't hold it anymore, all the stress and fear you'd been bottling up for days started spilling from your eyes.

"n-no it's not, I-I... I don't even know, I just..." you sobbed, and when you looked at him, he swore he heard his heart break " I feel like shit"

"sugar..." he murmured, wasting no time wrapping his arms around you "I'm so sorry baby," he spoke gently to your ear as his hands stroked your hair and back 

You hid your face in his chest as you cried all you had to cry.

"it's all gonna be alright sweetheart, I promise"

But at that, for some reason, you only started to cry harder.

"ok this is it, hold onto me"

And you had just the time to frown, before he had picked you up and walked out of the room and into the living room.

"w-what are you doing?"

"forcing you to take a break"

"I could have walked" A small smile appeared on your lips, and with it, a small wave of relief washed over Pedro's body.

"You've done enough today" he explained, sitting down on the couch with you, and in less than a moment, your whole body had clung to his.

Your left leg was draped over his, and your head was on his chest, as he held you close with both his arms.

"y/n, you're not gonna fail" he started gently "You're the smartest person I've ever met"

"That's not true" you muttered, your words muffled by his body

"yes it is" he insisted "And baby I promise you, that everything is gonna be alright" he swore, slowly running a hand through your hair "and that no matter what, I'm gonna be here for you, ok?"

It took a moment for you to respond, but after a few beats of silence, a muffled "ok" made its way to Pedro's ears.

"yeah?" he asked, again, encouraging you to meet his gaze.

"yeah" you sniffled, as you finally looked up

"Feeling better?"

"yes" you nodded "Thank you"

He tightened his hug, as he bent down, to ghost your mouth "I love you baby" he kissed you "Whatever you need, I'm always gonna be here for you"

[laprincesitabella]

they don't return your feelings...

A/N: So this is going to be a little bit bad bc of my bad writting. I hope you guys enjoy and request all you want!

(kirishima, deku, and bakugou... seperated ofc)

Warnings: Angst thats it

Bakugou Katsuki:

I stared at him dumbfounded after he sat down, and offered me his hand. He's never been a fan of affection, nor never really hugged me. I mean I don't think a guy with a personality like his will ever do such things. I grabbed his hand and sat down beside him.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" He questioned, not meeting my eyes and looking up at the sky.

"It surprised me when you wanted to grab my hand." I laughed awkwardly.

He didn't respond, but he got closer to me. Then i have to spoil it all by saying something stupid like--

"i love you."

"what?" He looked at me like I was crazy.. I'm not crazy. Why aren't you saying that you love me? What is wrong with you!? It's not my fault if he doesn't like me back right?

He doesn't have taste. I'm not the pathetic one.

I couldn't stop thinking about these same thoughts for days after he said

"I don't love you. I have to focus on myself, and if you are just here to slow me down then... we should not talk anymore" He got up and then started walking away.

I'm not pathetic...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Izuku Midoriya:

I didn't understand what was going on in our class. I asked Midoriya if he could explain the topic. He said yes and told me to meet him in his room after dinner. Just hearing him say that made me skip a beat. I always wanted to be alone with Izu. It's just he's always with his friends or training somewhere. I walked towards his bedroom door after I stuffed my belly with some ramen and rice. I knew I wasn't going to concentrate that easy. He makes me so nervous. I knock on his door and wait for him to answer. "Oh! uh! in a sec!"

a girl voice..

that was not Izuku's voice.

The door opens to reveal a flustered Izuku. I looked over his shoulder and saw Ururaka behind him even redder than he was. It clicked almost immediately. He never liked me... He loved her. Why am I still standing here like an idiot?

"So sorry! I think i should go" I spat out.

I walked away fast. I didn't want him to see my face.

I didn't want him to see my tears. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ejiro Kirishima:

Eijiro Kirishima was a force to be reckoned with – his fiery spirit matched only by the unyielding hardness of his quirk. But despite his formidable presence, there was one thing that eluded him: matters of the heart.

As he navigated the bustling corridors of U.A. High School, Kirishima couldn't help but notice the lingering stares and shy smiles directed his way. Among those admirers was Y/N, a fellow student whose affection for him burned brighter than the sun.

Yet, try as he might, Kirishima couldn't find it within himself to return Y/N's feelings. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their friendship or value their presence in his life – far from it. But when it came to matters of romance, Kirishima found himself at a loss, unable to reciprocate the emotions that Y/N so openly displayed.

It was a source of constant guilt and discomfort for Kirishima, who struggled to find the words to convey his true feelings without hurting Y/N in the process. He knew that he couldn't continue to ignore the elephant in the room, but the thought of confronting Y/N about his lack of romantic interest filled him with a sense of dread.

As he settled into his seat for another day of classes, Kirishima couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered within him. He stole a glance in Y/N's direction, their eyes meeting briefly before Y/N quickly averted their gaze, a faint blush creeping up their cheeks.

Kirishima's heart sank at the sight, knowing that he was the cause of Y/N's discomfort. He wanted nothing more than to ease their worries and reassure them that their friendship meant the world to him. But try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to say the words that he knew would break Y/N's heart.

As the day wore on, Kirishima found himself retreating further into himself, the weight of his unspoken feelings pressing down on him like a leaden blanket. He knew that he couldn't continue to ignore the situation, that he owed it to Y/N to be honest about his emotions – or lack thereof.

But as the final bell rang and he made his way out of the classroom, Kirishima couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gripped him. He knew that the conversation he had been dreading was inevitable, and that no amount of avoidance could change the painful truth that lay between him and Y/N.

And so, with a heavy heart and a mind full of turmoil, Kirishima steel himself for the confrontation that awaited him, knowing that the bonds of friendship would be tested like never before.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: i wonder who is my fav

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

DnD Combat and Critiques

Hey, so I have thoughts. I know! How unfortunate.

Combat in DnD is not always going to translate nicely into a narrative that follows storybeats. Like in a good fight, there's a plan - the plan fucks up - then there's a callback to some earlier themes that gets implemented into the finishing blow.

FCG did the last part.

It's the before that's the problem.

BH don't have a lot of synergy. Let's go back to the whole Dungeons and Dragons for all the roleplay - it's still a fighting game. And fighting games require some strategy.

BH does have a strategy. Hit the thing until it stops moving. And they usually do this through raw, brute strength. But when you're facing a high-level, Smart character, it's going to take more than bruteforce

I'm gonna out myself as a LoL player here. I know! It's really quite tragic.

But in teamfights, you do need some characters - like the tank or the support - who can pin down those highly mobile characters so they can just start hitting.

Yes. She had legendary resistances. But her resistances are limited. They had to burn those. Ideally, FCG or Fearne would have done that. Hell, maybe Ashton could have picked her up and squeezed - or tried to. Likewise, Laudna could have cast darkness and it would have crippled everyone but it would be some advantage.

This team desperately needed some way to limit her movement or ability to target them. But without that, FCG had no choice but to remain on healing duty and unable to chance spells like Banishment or fucking Plane Shift. Fearne needed to stay away from damage - let those better at it try - and focus on running utility. Aura of Life came way too late - not that it mattered bc again Otohan's hyper mobility.

I think it wasn't Otohan that was the problem. A lot of babies are kicking and crying that she was too hard. And yeah. She was. And arguably she wasn't the best villain for the audience bc yeah we know fuck all about her. Here's something to consider: Otohan was for the players, not the audience. At most, the audience gets a kick out of BH's reactions whenever she comes up. But her main job was to freak out the players - and she does.

Because BH is not prepared for high level combat. There. That's my critique.

When your healer goes into a rage if he heals too much, that's a liability in a fight. When neither of your tank-utility players have any reliable capture and crowd control capabilities, that's a problem. The most they had was Ashton's gravity well but she could clear that 10 ft difference with ease. They didn't need a fucking slow - they needed a stun.

This team is not equipped for a fight beyond brute force. They don't have a toolkit that lends itself well to tactics.

Otohan was absolutely beatable and I will die on that hill. They just didn't know how to fight her with the weapons they have. Outside of character growth, they really might need a good old fashioned shounen training arc.

[delcakoo]

i’m sure most ppl expected this so i’m not gonna make a big deal out of it but!! yes i am going on hiatus for an unspecified amount of time.

it’s honestly quite simple, i’ve just been losing interest in most aspects of kpop aside from the music, which makes writing for it a lot harder than before. i also dealt with a lot of burn out for months and still forced myself to write which only made it worse. lastly, i’m an executive of two clubs at my school this year on top of all my classes, so finding time to write would be even worse than it was before :’) !

YEAh that’s kinda it! for now my works will stay up, moots can dm me for my disc/spotify!! even if we’ve barely spoken pspsps i wanna stalk ur music cmere 🤲 a special shout out to my emoji anons too, you’re all amazing people ilysm, especially those that have been stuck with me for so long <3 (u know who u are!!)

i’ll try and check in here every so often to chat, esp if a new comeback for enha/txt happens!! love u guys and stay safe <3 you may send an ask if u have any questions!

extra stuff i wanna say to moots below! (it’s all word vomits i’m sorry)

RAVEN. MY WIFEY. my BELOVED blr wont let me tag u but you already know i adore u sm playing roblox with u is so fun even if that one banana game was kinda ass!! 💖 thank u for being so so sweet when putting up with me all the time and raising our fav corgi daughter with sm love <3 i hope u get more confidence in ur writing because your fics are always so creative and well written, and in yourself too bc a certain mf thats name starts with J and ends with N is MISSING OUT. 🙄🙄 ok im still gna be annoying u all the time so. bye ig….. smooches

@seongclb katto u deserve an award for putting up with me in dms ilysm 😞 watching the promised neverland together brought me so much joy and i still have a ss of you calling gilda a tractor ok i love u!!!! i would read your fics all day any day u are so talented and ur photography skills are amazing, i hope we get to keep in touch WE SHOULD FIND ANOTHER SHOW TO WATCH TGTHER !!!!! i need to fix your lack of anime knowledge ‼️ PLS KEEP WRITING AS WELL ENHABLR NEEDS U!!!!

@soov reirei my gf i aspire to be as confident and funny as you, you’re literal sunshine and always make my day better even with just one interaction <3 thank u for being so welcoming my first days in walmart enha and raising sushiwon with me!! as well as entertaining me by dying in genshin every 3 seconds <3 (WE NEED TO PLAY AGAIN) oh and KEEP WRITING BB. i will rise from THE DEAD WHEN IT COMES OUT OK U CAN DO THIS ML!!

@haknom kangaroo karaoke keys we may have had only a few convos but they were all so fun like PLAYING BRAWL STARS WAS HILARIOUS we ate the house down in duo showdown idc. and beta reading ur fics was such a treat esp while watching u plan new smaus every other day 🫶 also your music taste is MUWAH gimme some more recs pspsps !!! KEEP WRITING OKKK?!

@kynrki kimmy kimmy kim one of my first ever moots <3 your writing is always such a joy to read and your energy is amazing, thank you for giving me a chance when i was too shy to ask anyone else to be moots LMAO 🫶 plsplss keep writing you’re so gifted and deserve the whole world LOVEE UU

@bitehee cavvy my big sibling :((( i love u sm kshsdknd its been a while but i really hope everything has been well since you moved and you’re still being as cool as ever <3 im gonna replay a pokemon game in ur honor perhaps mystery dungeon 👁️ ? anyway i look up to u and think u are so cool, one of my fav hee stans ever ever!!! remember u have my disc if u ever wanna chat 🫂 !!!

@sunoksunny sunny <3 my other gf. i remember our first vc u had this goofy pfp i cant remember what it was but like u are so easy to talk to and funny?! and PRETTY??? your fits are always stunning and your singing is beautiful ugh the whole package fr… and. we need. to play. genshin!!! I REDOWNLOADED IT FOR U OK WE WILL DISCUSS THIS SOON!! ILY

@slytherinshua ZANNY. u are so easy to talk to we match each others energy so perfectly?!? I HOPE U AND TUALHA CONTINUE BEING THE COOLEST EVER and ur writing is top tier so pls keep going‼️ thank u for being so sweet to me as another one of my very first moots i appreciate u sm <3333

@flwrshee riri !!! we haven’t even been moots for long but i had to add u in here because u need to know that ILYSM. you’re like an adorable energetic little sister that always makes me smile T-T thank you for taking time out of your day to reblog my fics with so much sweet feedback and i wish u the absolute best always!! if u ever need anything pls dm me on disc i would love to chat with u more, and make sure to keep writing bc u have SO much talent!!!!

@wonieleles sia SIA i genuinely miss talking to u sm i NEED to come back to walmart enha :(( we don’t talk much besides our little interactions in the server but each time you make me smile. you’re so so smart and admirable, i hope you keep up the hard work bc i know you’ll go so far and HAVE MORE CONFIDENCE!! you’re so beautiful okay ily 😞🫶

@sultrybaby kel 😭😭😭��💖 you’ve literally been a day one THANK YOU for always checking in on me even during your ridiculous NONSTOP EXAMS. 💀 another one of my big siblings on here fr you are such a real one and i care for u sm!!! i hope everything has been well for u?! pls feel free to message me for anything okay <3 I LOVE U SM thank u for sticking with me all this time 🫂🫂

i have so many moots so i can’t write smthn for everyone but i love u all okay <3 AGAIN if u wanna keep in touch thru spotify or discord dm me muwah

[wetcatspellcaster]

Writer Interview Game

thank you so much for tagging me @eraserspiral !!!!

When did you start writing?

I wrote a lot of 'original fiction' as a teen, including a couple of TERRIBLE novels, that were essentially just a grab bag of all the books i was reading at the time. School (and in hindsight, grief) stopped this around 16-18, and then a very high pressure degree at a high profile university seemingly killed off my love of writing entirely.

I got back into writing at 26... weirdly?? just before the panini?? (january 2020, did past-me feel something in the water and know i'd need to hold onto any crumb of serotonin for dear life??) I had just finished my PhD applications, and after sinking so many hours and so many words into the most joy sucking series of forms I've ever encountered, I decided I wanted to write something fun for a change!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I don't write smut. I read a LOT of smut.

But in terms of themes, I tend to write in worlds/fantasy settings where we can all pretend that capitalism doesn't exist, or that if it does exist, the protagonist is winning at it. I really like speculative fiction (sf and fantasy) that tackles capitalistic themes/poverty well - this has been on my mind recently bc of an arc in a D&D game I've been playing, where my wonderful DM has essentially gone 'capitalism bad' but then let us do something about it <3

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I find it hard to know what my writing 'is like'... not bc it's wildly unique or anything, but just bc I don't think I can see my own influences that clearly (if anyone wants to drop me some comparisons in the askbox, go for it, I'm curious!)

But in terms of writers I want to emulate, at the chatty/colloquial end it's T Kingfisher and Sarah Rees Brennan, who have a good handle on when to hit emotionally or on high fantasy register, and then when to have really grounded/human moments that make their characters incredibly relatable (and often very funny). At the high fantasy end, it's Shannon Chakraborty, Ann Leckie, Nghi Vo, Silvia Moreno Garcia. They write haunting and engaging narratives!

And, of course, I'm always trying to muster an ounce of whatever the fuck Howl/Sophie had going on.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I use my desk for work/thesis and want to exclusively keep it that way, so my writing space is actually just on the corner of the sofa in my living room, with my legs crossed, a blanket, and a cup of tea. No music, pure autistic silence (but also bc my laptop speaker is broken). Scotland gets dark for a long time in the winter, so it's usually pretty cosy vibes. It's probably not good for me, as I get a LOT of leg cramp.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Honestly, not to be tsundere about it... but maybe ignore the muse a little? If you've burned out or you're trying to brute force a scene, all you're doing is guilting yourself into being productive. With fic writing, especially, you should be doing it to have fun, not bc you feel like you have to. So if the words aren't coming, do other things for a bit. Go on a day trip, hang out with friends, do chores or read something. In my experience, my brain doesn't stay quiet for long, and ideas for my current project will come to me when i'm not trying to squeeze them out of myself like toothpaste.

Sometimes the well runs dry! Rather than feel terrible about it, be kind to yourself, and wait for rain x

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Hahahahaha, let's not talk about how I keep placing people into the worst versions of themselves and then have them improve and earn love anyway, regardless of if they deserve it. Or how I'm interested in characters who feel a wealth of emotion they hide from everyone behind a mask of either performed indifference, wilful charm, or simply bc they can't articulate it in the socially correct way. Or women who think 'if I cannot be beautiful or loveable, I will be competent', and the men who-

Anyway, introvert x extrovert pairings, amirite? Everything else is shown to me in a vision (my therapist reaches a dead end in my session as I insist nothing is wrong, asks me about my fanfic, and then delivers me a laundry list of the stuff I'm currently coping with. Lowest point: being told im IDing through the fucking DARKLING, on one project. That man is a war criminal, and I dont look like Ben Barnes).

What is your reason for writing?

In the beginning, I think it was pure comfort. I'd just come out of a period of extreme depression, and wanted to hallucinate some characters in love.

But recently, and going forward, I think it is a genuine exercise in proficiency. I thought my writing was so terrible that I said 'I couldn't write', for so fucking long. I now genuinely think this is something I'm good at, and that is something it has taken me so very long to believe, and even longer to say. I am a very self-deprecating person. I have so few things I feel good at, or that I think bring something worthwhile to the table. As academia delivers me blow after blow and the world leaves me feeling worthless, I am going to cling to this until my hands bleed.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

focusing on the 'motivation' part of this question... I think the comments that happen to land on the one specific thing that matters to me, those are the ones that hit hardest. It happens rarer than you'd think. part of the joy of fanfiction comments is the wealth of different reader interpretations, with people seeing things in your own work that you've never noticed. All interpretations are amazing, especially the ones that show you a blindspot you never considered. But when a reader hits the nail fucking on the head (gets a 'gold star in reading comprehension'), that's the most motivating, and makes me want to open my document and write the next chapter. Because I know then that at least one person out there 'gets it', and is fully on board with the story I want to tell.

But that is a very selfish, specific feeling. All comments are motivation, and all reader interpretations have value!

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Idk if this seems weird or a disingenuous answer but... as a person?? Writing a story for fun? Pieces was a very cool and special experience, but it was very unexpected. I wasn't and never considered myself to be a 'big name fan'. I never want to enter any kind of popularity contest, and I never want to be beholden to people who are reading a story I am writing for fun. Very funny to have a story blow up when you have weird feelings about attention lmfao. Like don't get me wrong, absolutely amazing to ride such a huge tide of support, but this was meant to be my silly introvert hobby :')

I also hope they think my writing is good!! obviously!! i know it can't be everything everyone wants all the time, but you know!! i think it's neat!! I hope y'all think it's neat!! plz and thank!!!

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

lmao eraserspiral's reply to this question was a fucking mood. (just deleted it in my template to make space).

I guess... I know how to flesh out a character, and a character voice. I think I can establish a character's personality, their strengths and their flaws, and have them consistently become the vehicle for both progression and some very real, understandable mistakes. I think chapters from different perspectives feel distinct, and that when development in either direction (bad or good) happens, it feels earned.

idk man, this is a hard one to answer when depressed :')

How do you feel about your own writing?

At the end of the day, it's a lifeline. Sometimes I keep very much to myself and I protect it fiercely, because it's one of the only things that kept me going at certain points in the last few years. At my lowest, I've often wondered for what, if anything, I'll be remembered for or what I'll leave behind... and now I actually have things! 12 whole stories, where once there was nothing! Sure, it's fanfic! But some people's favourite fanfic. None of it is perfect, but it all matters to me, and we're now at the point (4 years in) where I am starting to slowly realise how it has changed me as a person, and will continue to change me going forward.

I want to start on some original ideas once my thesis is over, vivaed and done, but I don't currently see my writing as anything something I can make into a career, bc I need to keep the joy in it as the joy literally keeps me alive :')

tagging: @imscissorbladez, @pricemarshfield, @blarfshnorgull, @violacae, @dededrabbles, @brabblesblog - no pressure, just trying to share this tag game to more groups/social circles! :) x

[hamausagi]

it’s midnight and i’m having a meltdown over the religious trauma my ex caused me lol (i continue to have my meltdown below) tw for mention of sa kinda idk anymore

i literally cannot look at religion the same anymore lmao. it’s ruining my life still. i hate that now i feel differently about all religions after being forced into islam for a year and now im extremely anxious and uncomfortable around religious people. like i never ever want to go back but the guilt and discomfort i get from seeing islamic posts is crazy bc it makes me hate myself bc i feel like an awful person for feeling like that

my ex was extremely religious. he lied to me when we met and told me he wasn’t and then a month later told me that we couldn’t date unless i converted. but i didn’t want to convert. (which he made me meet him when i was leaving for the MCR concert and made me late picking gin up to tell me this which almost ruined my day with gin and i cried the whole drive to get dust) it’s a long story but we decided to give it a shot and i would learn about the religion over time and see if it was what i wanted. but instead of letting me learn slowly and believe in it when i was ready, he literally forced it down my throat from day one. which is an insane red flag. but i ignored it bc i wanted to be with him. it literally caused me so much anxiety i couldn’t take it. i would have panic attacks daily, i would suffer from extreme derealization bc i genuinely didn’t know what was real and i have never been religious so suddenly being forced to accept that god was real out of the blue and being forced to change my whole perception of the world was so jarring and hard to understand. i was being told that if i sinned i was going to go to hell. i was being told that i needed to constantly repent. i was being told that everything i had been doing was wrong and everyone i knew was leading me astray and i needed to get rid of them.

he forced me away from my friends and family, telling me they were bad for me.

he started forcing me every day to tell him i was straight, since he believed that being queer was a terrible sin and i needed to repent. he new i was bi, and every day he would ask ‘what are you?’ and wouldn’t be satisfied until i told him ‘im straight’. he told me to stay away from my queer friends. he told me they were all going to burn and that i would too if i associated with them. he viewed us as less than people. i can’t even tell people my sexuality now. i’m too scared. my current bf doesn’t even know, not that i think he would care but im way too anxious to even bring it up.

he policed the way i dressed. he made me get rid of anything too revealing to him. he told me that i needed to start dressing like a hijabi, even though i wasn’t ready. he only spoke about religion. he told me that the only thing i needed to care about was religion until i died. that it was more important than life itself. he would call other people, atheists and followers of other faiths, stupid and he would shit on them constantly since in his mind. the only true religion was the one he followed.

he wouldn’t touch me unless he was horny. he would make me suck him off, even when i resisted and asked him if it was okay because before he vehemently told me we couldn’t touch or have sex (after we did already multiple times, which after he told me we couldn’t do anymore, made me feel like shit) and he would say it was okay in the moment and then after make me feel awful for engaging with him even though i only complied bc i was desperate for any sort of touch or physical validation from him that he even loved me anymore. whenever we touched or engaged in that stuff, it was always for his benefit. he would make me suck him off or do other things i didn’t want to do.

he rushed me to convert bc he told me he would only touch me again after we got religiously married. so i rushed to convert and we got married a day later over the phone, which wasn’t even real. the imam turned out to be a scam, and i was scammed out of 600$ bc my ex asked me to pay for the marriage license which turned out to be invalid anyway.

he went away on a trip for a month overseas to visit family. after telling me no matter what his family said he would choose me. he would stay with me. he broke up with me over the phone a week into his trip. my world fell apart. i didn’t know what was real again. was god even there? why did god do this? why was he acting like this was god-willed? he didn’t even care. he acted like it was all foretold and pre written. everything shattered around me.

i literally don’t know if i will ever view religion the same anymore. my experience felt so suffocating and i don’t know how to look at religious people the same anymore. i don’t know how i stayed with him for so long looking back on it. i felt so trapped and im so glad im free from him. but i don’t know if i will ever be free from this fucking religious guilt and turmoil

[blorbologist]

perc'ahlia touch prompt 29?

TECHNICALLY not airplane saga bc I just got home, BUT! I'll tag these as airplane saga as I keep workin through them <3

Also thank u @burr-ell for the spark of inspo to treat myself to some fluff after this long ass weekend

29. tickling the other one

--

It starts as nothing - Vax pokes her in the side as he reaches for the marshmallows, and Vex shrieks. And it’s a little difficult for Percy to not notice, really, when she jumps clear off the folding chair and laughs like cricketsong. 

“Vax, you fuck!” she giggles, half-crouched over her flank, her hotdog-adorned poker waving around to protect it. 

And perhaps Percy does not get in on the betting with Scanlan and Keyleth as the twins have at eachother, stick clashing with warmed metal to hiss and snap in the air between them, the smoke dancing around their gleeful violence. Perhaps he does not take the time to explain to Tary that this is what normal siblings do, you poor thing, or assure Keyleth that no this is absolutely not safe and no, that is exactly why he will not be intervening. 

In the end it’s Vex that disarms her brother - obviously, she was wielding smoldering mystery meat and a hot poker. She stabs her weapon into the dirt and gets to tickling Vax with a vengeance, until he shrieks just as shrill as she had and wiggles a touch too close to the fire in his attempts to escape. Grog pries them apart, then. Trinket makes off with Vex’s mangled sausage.

A lot happens, around that dying bonfire - to the point the swordfighting twins is only a footnote. 

Korrin had needed to burn brush and old oaks that had fallen over the winter - thus, the first damp day of early summer Keyleth had gathered them all with the offer of booze, s'mores and sausages to help get the pile together, watch it burn bright and devastating, and then enjoy its glowing ruin. 

So Grog had almost single-handedly forced a leaning dead pine to kneel -  Keyleth’s antler circlet had gotten stuck in some low-hanging branches - Tary had tried to prove he could, in fact, climb a tree, and to everyone’s surprise he did actually figure it out, only to need help getting back down. 

It’s definitely a fun morning of chores, a lazy afternoon shooting the shit, and a cozy evening, now, around the bed of embers broken by that pine’s seething remains. 

That little swordfight sticks (lovely pun) out to Percy.

Well, not so much the display of terrible form his old instructors would bemoan. But the inciting incident. 

Vex is ticklish. Outrageously so.

And it seems she’s reminded of this, for the rest of the night. Her eyes dart back and forth whenever someone approaches, however innocently, a gleam of teeth a touch too wild. Like she might bolt into the woods, her path unhindered thanks to their work. She leans, just a touch, to protect her sides, tucks her sawdust-speckled flannel closer and tightens the arms of her denim jacket around her waist. 

Percival, it should be noted, grew up with six siblings.

He is very, very good at getting past even the best guard for the sake of a good laugh. 

And maybe he’s never heard something quite so delicate from Vex. No, delicate is the wrong word - brutal, instead, in its joy, something she couldn’t hold back if she tried. 

(She tries, always, to hold so much back. Even just a little, often, out of habit. He knows - he does it too.)

Percy bides his time. 

There’s truth or dare, and an attempt at replicating beerpong with pinecones and the bed of coals, and Vax swipes Percy’s glasses to he and Grog can try to look at minnows in the creek with them (Percy will not give them the excuse of being very inebriated). 

Percy has to muck around in the riverrocks and mud for his spectacles, finding them with his feet and emerging soaked. Pike and Vex wolfwhistle - he thanks his adoring audience by wringing out his shirt over their heads before leaving it to dry by the fire. 

Okay, maybe he forgets about his little plan from time to time. He brought his whiskey with him - between its silky bite and the beer he’s been mouthing, Percy is maybe not the most sober of the group. That might be Grog, just by virtue of his size - if not him then Tary. 

Korrin bid them good night before it was night at all, clearly not wanting to infringe on their fun. Vax drags Keyleth to bed after she leans far enough forward her hair starts to smoke. Scanlan dares Pike to carry him to bed and she’s too plastered to decline the challenge, tossing him into his sleeping bag with a roar before stomping off to her own. Grog and Tary vanish sometime, too. Even Trinket is just about tuckered out, dozing beside the designated seating log (spared of the fire for a cool knot in the trunk).

It takes Percy longer than he would admit to realize it’s just him and Vex left. 

To be completely fair, she’s good conversation - it just flows. White water one moment, rapids, rapid and quick-witted, to curl into languid eddies and sandbars another, pooling in silences. 

The debate about the state of the film industry had started while they still had company - they might have gone to bed sometime before Vex’s enthusiastic argument for trees potentially having personalities. Or maybe after Percy rattled on about his latest pet project - tried his hand a cuckoo clock, to mixed results so far - and Vex just watched and nodded and leaned and leaned and leaned in to ask her questions, and - and where was he?

It takes him until roughly this point to remember he’d wanted to tickle her. 

Unfortunately, she’s bundled up against the encroaching chill you only find in a summertime woodland - a coarse blanket Korrin had tossed them all earlier folded around her as wings. 

“Would you mind sharing?” Percy asks. Rubs his hands up and down his arms at Vex’s curious look. “Will catch something at this rate, after my little dip.”

Percy is fairly certain that boozy Percy is the most strikingly brilliant Percy to have ever Percy’d.

Vex snorts, unfurling the blanket to invite him closer. “Poor you,” she teases, dramatically . “You’ll catch your death without me.”

“I’ve certainly caught something,” he says, blithe, and before Vex can do something his hands have snaked around her waist to dance and dance and dance. No foreplay with the silly pokes or threat of tickles - oh no, Percy is going straight for the kill.

And, well, maybe he gets it, because Vex shrieks in his ear and he perhaps regrets most of this when she elbows him on reflex just below the ribs. 

“Stubby?” Vax, raising his voice, raspy with sleep and fear. “Is everything alright?”

He doesn’t direct this to Percy, who is objectively the one who is not alright here, clutching his abdomen and leaning his head to Vex’s shoulder as he catches his breath. She’s cackling in victory, the vixen. 

“Peachy!” Vex replies, voice a ditty. “Percy’s just being a little shit.”

“I am not,” he huffs. Wheezes, probably, but he would like to maintain his dignity and shall insist it was a huff. “I’m a man of science, and I - I have the hypothesis that you don’t really laugh enough.”

Vex’s brows furrow. “I laugh all the time-”

“Really laugh,” Percy emphasizes. “The sort - you know, no holding -”

- Back, he would have said, except she’s turned the tables on him and is assaulting his flanks. Hells, she’s even bolder and slips a hand under the shirt he borrowed from Vax to tickle the skin there. 

Percy yelps, scrabbling to get away even as laughter boils over into a foamy laugh of his own. Vex’s joins in, triumphant, until his wiggling ends up toppling them both over, ass over teakettle, into the leaflitter. Percy takes the opportunity to retaliate, hands soft claws attacking the sliver of skin he finds over her jeans. The muscles jump and Vex cackles harder, rolling into a ball which he pokes apart, which she uses to find an opening and tickle him in turn.

“Forfeit!”

“Fuck no!”

(It does not matter who says which - both swap and repeat the words so often Percy quickly loses track.)

They’re breathless and crusted with leaves and Percy’s sides fucking hurt and so does his face from laughing, and he’s pretty sure Pike’s told them to quiet down twice but he can’t stop and frankly he’s not sure he would if he could, because oh he’s drunk, yes, but he’ll attribute the floating state of his heart to being tipsy tasting Vex’s laugh - so close yet so far. 

Huh. Now, when did that happen?

Not sure - sometime before now, when he’s finally got a hold on her, grabbing both her arms - effectively putting an end to their war of attrition. 

“Got you-”

- Only, nope, she’s gone - slipped clear of the snare of his arms.

And then she’s back, but shoving him face-first into the mulch, a twig dragging over his glasses. 

“Sorry, darling,” Vex says, with both a genuine wince and a sincere satisfaction. “Comfortable down there? I hope you didn’t get a mouthful of gross.”

Percy spits out some crumbled leaf on principle. 

“Forfeit?” she repeats, from between his shoulderblades, with one last ghost of her knuckles over his sides. It’s a little hard to laugh, half-crushed into the forest floor, but somehow Vex manages to draw it from Percy all the same. 

When he feebly rocks back and forth, trying to get free, Vex adds, lightly, “I could call Trinket over to lick your face. You’re so lucky he’s slept through all this fun so far.”

“Fine,” he snickers. “Fine! Let me up, dear.”

“Hm, nah,” she decides. “I like my prize.”

Something’s happening to his hair. It takes Percy a moment to place the sensation of Vex sprinkling leaves and bits of fern into his hair like confetti.

“Not the hair,” he groans, thumping his forehead into the ground. The sound is not as satisfying as he would have hoped. “Cruel woman, leave the hair out of it.”

“Only because you ask so nicely,” Vex snarks, and - 

Oh.

And she cards her fingers through his hair, combing free her celebratory mischief, and everything takes on an entirely new angle for Percy.

“Vex, darling,” he hums, strains to get the sound out a timber above a growl, “please let me up?”

Percy would bet good money she taps at her lip in playful thought before she responds, “No. I told you, Percival - I like my prize.”

“Ah,” says Percy. “Quite enlightening.”

The dying fire pops, shudders as the remaining logs tumble inward on eachother. Pulled together, pulled down, pulled in. Not melting to the heat but made fallible by it. There’s certainly a second meaning in that pile of embers and coal. Are they anything but embers and coal?

Percy’s certainly a fire of Vex’s making, now - a nice burn to his muscles from their war, a nice burn to his belly from the alcohol, a nice burn to his heart flaring hopeful and flickering at the thought - 

Percy swallows. He hears Vex echo it, faintly. 

“Darling,” he says, “I could stay down here. But, ah - I would really appreciate the opportunity to look at my captor.”

Just to know. The thought - the possibility - it’s very effective at sobering Percy right up. And he wants to see because if he sees he will know and then he could - he will know.

Vex shrugs, turns the movement into a shift of her hips. It takes some wiggling, and a root digs into Percy’s back, but he’s looking up at her, now. Which is, wow, certainly an improvement. Her braid is in the process of turning into many snakes, a Medusa of their making, sprouting twigs too. There’s a smear of marshmallow on her hand, pinning his chest, and streaks of soot on her forehead where she keeps brushing away her hair.

She’s straddling his hips, which is - it’s just - completely unfair, Vex’ahlia.

It looks like she knows it, which. Well. Still a dirty trick, but one that means something. 

“Vex’ahlia? Dear?”

“Hm?” It comes out a little shrill. 

“I - hm.” Percy frowns. It feels wrong after smiling so much. “I think I’ve lost all the words I had in mind somewhere in the leaflitter, so. Simple: I am stupidly in love with you, and would love to kiss you right about now.”

Vex laughs - not quite the sort she’s been generous with this evening, drawn forth involuntarily, but a cousin. Buried in the same family lot - sudden and rare and real. No added sugar, no preservatives, plucked straight from the wilds of her heart. 

“Ask again.”

Percy blinks, thoroughly confused and suddenly terrified by the forest sprite sitting on - oh gods. “May I kiss you?”

“No,” Vex repeats, a breath breathed a breath away and Percy is going to die, here, of humiliation or torment or both - 

Oh. 

Ah. Vixen.

No, he could not kiss her - because she would kiss him.

It’s a gods-awful kiss. Practically speaking - Vex’s lips are sticky with marshmallows and Percy’s fairly sure she can taste half the undergrowth on his mouth. The angle is mathematically impossible - surely, if Percy could just do the numbers. His throat is sore from the smoke and everything feels a touch numb from the giggling.

But it’s Vex, and his burned, burning little heart spins every detail into a fairy tale and he can’t help but lean up and in and hope she keeps him as her prize forever, carries him home like a stuffed bear at a fairground. Or, no, she’s not nearly strong enough for her, but has anyone considered the devotion a prize would give its winner?

He’s so fucking in love with her it makes him stupid and for once in his life Percy cannot mind being the fool.

It’s illogical and it’s amazing.

One tiny, innocuous detail:

Percy is, not above all else but above a fair few things, a little shit.

So when he feels Vex smile and lean her weight into him, licking into his mouth, hands sliding into his shirt, he brushes his knuckles to the skin just above her hips.

She laughs, startled, throws her head back so fast she knocks into his nose - comes back in just as quickly to bite his lip in retaliation. 

Pairs it with a tickle of her hand against his neck, which - fuck, that’s his weak spot and Percy makes a sound he will refuse forevermore to describe. 

And the rest of Vox Machina will struggle to describe, because oh, yes, they’re all in tents not ten feet away.

“What the fuck are you two up to?” Scanlan hollers. “Is it finally happening?”

“What’s finally - nope, nevermind, good fucking night!” Vax wails.

“It’s peachy,” Percy mutters in a silly smack to Vex’s cheek, and she laughs even louder.

[glossysoap]

🤡💾 <3

HIHI IVY <3333

🤡 How many wips are you actively working on?

…. 25 🧍🏻‍♀️

💾 What is your document of your wip / a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

i always come up with titles before even writing so the stories title is actually what i’ve saved it as, so i’m not cheating 😈

here’s a few titles:

G Squared (title for my upcoming ghost/reader/gaz smut. i would post a summary for this but i already posted a wip sneak peek that kind of sums it up already lol)

Empty On-Call Rooms - the long awaited poly 141 au feat. surgeon reader (think grey’s anatomy centric, starting out as an intern and making your way to residency and attending), 141 spoiling them, starting out as price x reader with that “oh, you thought this was just a one night stand?” trope. also featuring the 141 forcing reader to care for themselves (ie, making them remember to eat, get enough sleep, etc. due to their burnt out nature that comes with being an intern/resident).

Reckless Behavior - soap drabble request from a drabble ask game sent in from @/kitkatscabinet! (preemptively apologizing for taking so long sjskjs. featuring best friends to lovers trope, slow burn, arguments, and showing up at their door in the middle of the night for comfort. in summary, reader experiences a close call when they forgo obeying orders in a mission so that the objective can be accomplished. soap doesn’t take that well, at all. feelings come out in the most passionate way possible, falling from soaps lips as he’s pounding you into the mattress.)

Following Orders - price spanking smut, inspired by @/vgilantee and I’s convos. (i’m sure you can imagine that i’m beating myself up abt this taking so long jsksjs but honestly it’s bc i have a hard time writing the character being mad at the reader 😭 definitely isn’t a reflection of my own feelings about people being mad at me IRL. definitely not. to summarize, reader takes a big risk during a mission and either almost gets hurt or does get hurt. either way, reader ends up bent over his thighs 😁)

Beard Burn - price face sitting drabble, inspired again by @/vgilantee and i’s convo abt price giving reader beard burn!!! (no summary bc that’s v self explanatory lol)

Good Soldier - price/reader/ghost part 3 (to summarize, after ghost peeks into price’s office and witnesses price finger fucking reader, price shows him that he’ll always be the one in charge. price then forces ghost to watch him fuck you, and then ghost worships you. part 4 and 5 afterwards.)

LOVE YA MWAH <3333

[besidesitstoowarm]

"Utopia" thoughts

unironically one of my favorite episodes of the davies era and the only reason it's not my fave of season 3 is that "blink" is in season 3

i LOVE the pacing of this one. i was so tense throughout like half of it, plus the doctor got to be cunty which is always a highlight. we see the return of cap'n jack tryna fuck and suck his way through the heat death of the universe. respect

alright let me get all my notes about the plot out of the way so i can talk about these characters. so the tardis takes them 100 trillion years into the future and "not even the time lords came this far" which is interesting, the doctor totally out of his element. they're on a dead world, the ruins of a society. the architecture left behind reminds me a lot of pre-contact indigenous cities out west. the sky is black because all the stars have burned out. there's a lot of places named in this ep that all sound like nature, "the wildlands" "the dark matter reefs" yana was found abandoned on a coast. the doctor makes a comment about if yana would have trouble navigating without the stars as a guide. it just felt very "the terror" i guess, very 19th century. and the futurekind felt very "the time machine" so we're at the edge of the universe, the end of everything, and there's all these little callbacks to the age of exploration. the beginning and the end of it all. i can't remember if it's contradicted in the next ep but for now i love that the rocket gets away and then that's it, we don't get an update. did they make it? is there a utopia, or anything else beyond the edge of the universe? it's up to you babes <3

jack gets to be very gay in this one, flirting like crazy. "oh, don't start" the doctor is trying to cockblock like his life depends on it. "i could meet myself/only man you'd ever be happy with" yeowch. i don't remember anything about torchwood so this is where we (viewers of the good show only) get to find out that jack can't die and it's bc the bad wolf brought him back too hard. "the last act of the time war was life" there is so much going on there

we get a lot of rose talk, obviously, jack and the doctor discussing what she did/where she is/what she was like. it's all good stuff and i like to see it but it keeps cutting back to martha's disappointed face and while i said a few writeups ago that i didn't like her romantic interest in the doctor, even without it she's still clearly the "rebound" companion for him. i honestly don't know how it would have been possible to avoid that; it would feel disingenuous to not bring her up or have her loss affect the doctor, and i've said before that i don't think any one companion has been so important to any one doctor than rose was with ten. she defines him, her loss and her life and her love. the tenth doctor without rose tyler doesn't make sense, her absence is as obvious as her presence when it comes to him. even companions that define their doctor's era (jamie with two, even rose with nine) don't have the same hold over the doc like she did. i maintain this is bc their love forced his regeneration and so he's imprinted on her. while this is very interesting, it basically left martha completely in the lurch. s4 avoids this by 1. basically having the doctor recovered from his heartache until the end and 2. donna has such a big personality that she commands space in the doctor's attention. this is not a slight against either martha or donna. martha deserved better that's all

the "hermits united" line is incredibly funny and i'd completely forgotten about it. the "indomitable" callback was nice to see as well. i found out just today that yana's outfit was inspired by the first doctor and that davies specifically told the costumer designer to "hartnell him up" which in addition to the indomitable bit feels like linking us to classic who in a subtle way, easing us along. using elements of the first doctor's costume to reveal the master, it's a little narrative link of how long these two have been in each other's lives

the slow buildup to yana's reveal, him talking about his past, martha noticing the watch, telling the doctor about the watch, realizing there's another time lord that survived, realizing he doesn't have to be alone, realizing "you are not alone" was the key all along. he opens the watch. the sound of drums is deafening. derek jacobi is amazing, i wish we'd gotten to see him as the master for longer. john simm is great but still. "use my name" "the master" what is going ON with you guys. we are so fucking back

this was really rambling but i love this episode so much, there are so many layers. i'm so hype for the two-parter and hobbit doctor <3. i love when the master says he was killed by "a girl. how inappropriate" we love a chauvinist <3

[zoekrystall]

Added more in my pinned post and accidentally talked too much in the tags to hit the limit whoops. Added that txt yesterday bc I saw people primarily (some only) sharing donation links. Can you tell when I wrote stuff was I just ever so slightly irritated by all the emotions talk. Which yknow I get feeling angry and whatnot but I am specifically talking abt the stuff w "how can you not feel _". Idk if I already talked abt it or deleted it before hitting post some other time I think I did. Also was irritated by all the people yelling at people for being triggered like if you don't know the difference between discomfort and triggered do I not want you near me. That difference is very significant.

Idk man I am just tired of people equating empathy w humanity the most. I'm really glad I hardened up more bc I just think abt 2020 where I think I got first truly radicalized or/and learned a fuck ton but also all that guilt tripping and all made the already bad mental health further nosedive and that is just not sustainable neither for the cause or us. Like yes sharing and all actions that do help are important but it's also important to step away and do anything else to not burn out in like a day or two. Luckily the people that get followed got shaken up a bit and dash and rbs get focused more on positivity in general since then and that def helped long term (was gen "would _ rb that" "would _ scold if I would rb that" until it became a no brainer when my lifeline wasn't there. not the time to gush but fuck do I think I would still be in the same mud without him). Still not the best but better than then so sharing is easier on the mental health.

I feel. So weird for not being able to feel empathy for others but def feel it when others irritate me. Yeah I feel bad when I don't feel anything but what does it bring to force myself to feel something. I already knew in 2020 that the trying to force myself was empty I only felt like I have to try to feel awful bc of all the guilt tripping. It's hard to explain how it feels I think it's such a strange feeling. Anyways I'm at least aware enough to know if I get irritated around this I shouldn't constantly be vocal abt it bc it really does not matter in the grand scheme of things this is the only post and if further will I just on private bc no-one needs to see that but sometimes venting is needed.

I'm only really talking abt that bc reg the trigger stuff like ffs people still need to be able to function and there are things to do without getting triggered if the heavy topics are what do it. Also the people that want to help through sharing those can look at that if they know what they'll see and can get prepared first. I got ptsd doesn't mean I never ever look at any triggering stuff ever again I just need to be in the headspace and a heads up would always be very good. Really wish twt would do it like here w not completely not showing the tweet (minus in replies where you can click to show) if it has smth muted but saying "yo this post got this muted thing ya wanna see it". Like. People getting triggered are absolutely not the same people bitching bc they're just uncomfortable. The latter are the bad ones I do agree but know the fucking difference. Feeling uncomfortable just living happens like daily for the most standard reason so feeling that abt a horrendous situation should be a given. You however shouldn't get triggered daily. Also yes we can admire the people there but not everyone is as strong you shouldn't guilt them into dealing w more than they can. I'm gen (starting to consider, already did a few though) immediately blocking everyone posting that stuff esp the aggressive ones. I do not care if you have x or y not everyone experiences things the exact same way. I am being so good abt holding back insults.

And reg the emotions thing like people learn not everyone feels empathy and that it doesn't make people anything bad and that actions count challenge. Not everyone w aspd for example is automatically a evil person. What matters is if they talk abt things and if they genuinely stand behind them. Idk if I speak for most or if just past self but writing in all caps "how can you not feel bad/sad/angry/etc at seeing [atrocity, usually as video attached]" will make people not magically care if they didn't prior it'll just irritate them and scroll away. Factual information is what can make people turn around more (like, literally just share without that commentary for example). So many "both sides bad" focus on emotions afaik. Compassion, empathy, etc for both. There are people that see and feel bad abt what happens to them but still say both sides bad.

I'm tired I'll likely sleep now but yeah I just. Wanted to write abt it and get it out ig. Rb disabled and I won't bad faith argument idc if any of this sounded privileged to you. I can prob write all this way more eloquent but man idc this isn't a post that is supposed to spread and I wrote this while being sleepy. I also think there is, for individual people that aren't big names, some nuance reg having to talk abt something and being allowed to not engage in every important topic but 1 that is too complex to just kinda ramble about 2 this current event is less nuanced reg that I def think try to share as much as you can even if just occasionally. I think I only don't like it bc not saying anything online doesn't equal not doing anything. Someone could go to every protest they can and write and call but just not using their socials bc that takes their energy enough or smth. And some have multiple accs and only focus spreading it on their main (and/or w the biggest following, which should be used). I think that is what specifically gets me. But yeah didn't think abt it enough to form enough abt it and also maybe talking more abt it when this is over bc how I said it is less complicated rn. And. Yknow. When I am not tired as hell.

[cinnamonest]

Misogyny/Sexism kink HCs/Fem darling HCs

This specifically is from a very long while back but, I’ve gotten a lot of similar asks over time for HCs for the kink for different characters. I started this post ages, forgot about it, and was going through my drafts and realized I never completed this one, so I went ahead and finished the unfinished ones and added newer characters too.

You ever make  something and then look at it like... huh, I really made this atrocity exist didn't I... I am responsible for these words... I will face judgement for them one day. I will answer to God for what I've created with no excuse for the sin I've wrought into the world. Neat!

This turned out to be more like gender-based HCs in general and attitudes towards fem darling but they're still awful and toxic and all those other wonderful things❤️ I made the more pleasant ones a bit shorter and the more awful they get the longer the entries get. But this all revolves around the kink in general. In case this, God forbid, somehow ends up searchable despite being untagged, and since this is probably the most sensitive kink I write for, just a reminder/warning to those that stumble onto this/aren't into it: this is entirely fiction. I don't believe or promote any of the values, beliefs, or practices mentioned here.

//misogyny (like seriously, that is the focus of this post, this is bad, you have been warned), noncon, lots of correlations between sex and physical identifiers/traits, yandere/noncon/kidnapping mentions, super toxic behaviors, mentions of cheating (from third parties/cheating fears regarding darling, not from the boys), pressuring/guilting into sex, psychological complexes for Albedo & Scara, pseudoscience, mentions of PMS/periods, victim blaming, gaslighting, manipulation, abusive tendencies, forced impreg/breeding

//also a LOT of slutshaming, since that's a core element of the kink, so be warned there's also a lot of discussion of a slut!darling with high promiscuity.

Under a cut for length (and to preserve what little sense of dignity I have left).

--------------

     Bennett, Gorou, Thoma, and Chongyun do the same thing where they're like. Over the top on making sure they're doing things the 'right way,' traditionally speaking. Like will accidentally trip you and knock stuff over bc they're in a rush to get to the door to hold it for you before you reach it. That sort of thing. Noooo don't try to pay for anything!! You're not supposed to do that!! Don't carry anything heavy, they're supposed to get it for you!! It's kinda sweet until it becomes obnoxious... like sir, I can perform basic tasks for myself please stop trying to help me.

They're the type to get mad at another guy for saying something bad and try to defend you. "All women are queens" type of boys, but so far it goes in the opposite direction and becomes almost demeaning because of the uncomfortable pedestal they put you on. Truly little white knights, bless them. They want to be respectful to the best of their ability.

-

Bennett goes heavier on the "noooo let me do that" thing. Poor adventuring partner. What CAN you do? He says he has to go into the dungeon first, it could be dangerous! No don't open the chest what if something jumps out at you? Let him fight the enemy, you just stand back, don't worry, he'll take care of it! You're just too fragile to have to do any of that stuff yourself, he could never sit back and let you do it, that would be wrong of him! What, let you make the FIRE? You could get burned! Besides, he can do it so much easier, vision and all.

This can backfire, very easily, because it's... him. No, let him carry the big heavy box, he could never just sit back and make you do that! Except that when he takes it out of your hands, he trips and breaks the entire thing. He insists on lighting the fire, only for it to start to rain in the process. He opens the chests, but they're always near-empty. But no matter how many times this continues to backfire, he will never stop insisting on doing things himself. He wants to feel useful! Is that really so bad? You'd break his heart if you ever pointed it out... like, he's aware of it nonetheless, but hearing you say it out loud forces him to come to terms with it.

 Also, keep in mind he's getting all his dating advice from his elderly dads. They're teaching him to do stuff that was normal decades ago, so expect a lot of overly-chivalrous behaviors, which he will rush to perform like his life depends on being able to hold that door for you, or give you his jackets and coats if it's cold, that sort of thing. To the point it honestly gets annoying, bless his heart, but given his sweet nature, you try to swallow the irritation at first, can't bring yourself to be mad... but that only encourages him.

 -

 Thoma in particular pedestalizes girls as a whole. He is that boy that thinks you're super capable, you can do anything a guy can do... and he feels the need to... remind you of that, all the time. You all know the type. Almost as if he wants to be recognized for being "good," wants his 'brownie points'... although realistically, he's looking for a more physical reward.

 Yes, that being said... our boy is down bad, he desperately needs his balls drained and will shamelessly try to obtain it. Thus, he also tends to have the sort of "being nice -> pussy" mentality, where he feels like if he just does enough nice things, eventually he'll get to put his dick in you. So much so that he goes overboard, makes you uncomfortable with the sheer number of gifts and acts of service being given to/done for you. The more desperate he gets, the more he lays on the "niceness," but it becomes very obvious very quickly exactly what he's so nice for. Not that he's consciously thinking so, he really, genuinely does also just naturally want to make you happy, but it would be a lie to say there isn't a significant portion of his brain being controlled directly by his dick. But he does everything with respect! He breaks into your room (respectfully), spies on you changing or showering (respectfully), takes every opportunity to let you go in front of him up stairs out of chivalry and respect, and may just take the opportunity to get a glance upward if you're wearing a skirt/dress (respectfully), drugs your drinks and food so you pass out and he can finally put his dick in you (respectfully!)... you get the idea.

 So yes, he's one of those guys that takes pride in being good. Granted, he's still a very humble person overall, but sometimes he seems to be a little too eager to remind you how much he respects you and is super chivalrous to you... like, almost as if he's not-so-subtly begging for something in return, which doesn't take a genius to figure out what that might be. I mean, in his mind, he's followed all the right steps, this is totally the part where you practically leap into his bed right?? If not, he keeps trying for a while... over and over. But to be honest, if it goes on long enough, he can get frustrated. Like, not that you don't totally have autonomy and all that, no, he'd never be entitled or anything like that! It's just that... since he's done so many nice things for you, it does kinda logically follow that he deserves something for it, don't you think? Not that he's saying you have to do anything for him! No, no, it's not like that at all. You don't have to do anything... it would just be really nice, you know, since he has done so much for you... no pressure.

 -

 To be fair, yin energy is associated with femininity, so, perhaps Chongyun reasons that in order to offset his yang energy issues, he needs a constant supply of it... logical thought process says he needs a sweet girl to have attached at the hip, to carry around like a good luck charm! So uh... he respects the independent girls and all, but maybe you, specifically, would be really well suited to a wifey life of doing nothing but being his and staying by his side all the time. You can help him with small tasks in his work, and calming him down when he gets too overwhelmed and hot! That's, um... empowering. Yeah, he also tends to take the route of "all girls should be free and empowered but here is my 1000-slide presentation on why darling is the exception--" you get the idea.

 Chongyun also white knights. So badly. It's embarrassing. He will unhesitatingly rush to your defense the moment another guy says something that could vaguely be interpreted as mean because he has to. He can't just let someone get away with disrespect! ...Even if you're practically begging him to leave it alone. He has to defend you, after all, not doing so would... well, it would look kinda pathetic, he can't have that. This is also true if darling is a stranger. Like, he white knights in general, because he's not about to let anyone be mean to girls on his watch!! He will definitely walk right up to some guy with an irritated glare to ask what they're doing to you, ask you if you're okay, fight them off if need be. It's only the right thing to do, he thinks.

 And finally, the whole yin energy thing... well, it has to be transferred to his body somehow. And he's been told the best way is intercourse. So, really, it is a very dire matter when he needs to bend you over the nearest surface, or push you up against a tree or the like. He respects you a lot and all that, but, uh, this is a very serious situation, you see, so maybe you can sacrifice that free will just this once for the greater good.

 -

 As for Gorou... well, he tries, but the issue is that sometimes biology takes over. Like, yes, he respects your right to your autonomy and freedom however-- it's... just that you told him you're not ready for it yet, but you see, he really really wants to breed you... so there is a conflict of interest here. Not that he doesn't respect you! But it's just that... he really wants it. So he may have to kinda set the respect to the side just long enough to shove his knot in you, then he'll go right back to being very respectful, promise, so it all works out right? He'll even apologize the whole time he's pounding his hips into you, that's how much he respects you.

 And he will help you take care of them, of course. But, uh, it may be something of a permanent occupation. He would never think that you're not good for anything else, of course, it's just that once you've recovered, he's definitely ready to stuff you again... and again... and due to his naturally very high doggie fertility, it usually only takes one try before he gets results. He thinks you'll be really good at the whole incubator-breeder thing. Not that you aren't a great fighter and all that too! But, well, technically since you have the parts, it's not too upsetting to say you were built for it, right?

 Likewise, he can't help but be defensive, protective. Not that he thinks you can't do it yourself! No, never, he just... gets really upset all of a sudden when other men talk to you. He doesn't really think about it, his ears just flatten to the side of his head and he growls out of instinct. Trust him, he's embarrassed by it himself, he just can't even think straight when that happens. He has to protect you, you know, you're his, so... oh, no, not... not like he thinks of you as property or anything! He just thinks of you as something that is just for him and no one else and that he has more of a claim to you than others, which is totally different.

  -----

Venti's issue is not really his attitudes or opinions or anything, he doesn't really have any that are too bad, and more his behaviors and the fact that every little thing he does to darling more or less all revolves around him being perpetually and insatiably horny.

 He has lots of respect for you as a female and your autonomy and all that... or so he says... but his actions tend to not quite line up with that because he's a nasty little perv with no regard for privacy or decency. He honestly thinks he's very respectful, if you were to ask him, because he doesn't realize that his habits of groping and voyeurism are in any way bad.

 Venti would be like one of those guys all for fair treatment and rights and all because they know that sexual liberation means they'll get laid more often, but still keep some sexist attitudes when it benefits them. Sexual autonomy significantly increases his chance of darling sleeping with him, does it not? In that case, well, it is the City of freedom! Honestly, that's probably part of the origin of the whole city of freedom thing, he probably decided Mondstadt should be a place where people are free to sleep with whomever whenever. ...Well, unless it's darling of course, darling should only be sleeping with him, darling just has the freedom to do so whenever she wants. Come on now, all rules (or lack thereof) have exceptions.

 But unlike the former four, don't except any shame or respect in terms of opportunities. He's shameless, and will take every chance he gets to get an eyeful, handful, or faceful of you. He already is a little perv and menace even before darling enters his life. Flipping up skirts with wind powers, spying on the nuns through the cathedral windows when they bathe or get dressed, copping a feel when he "trips" right into some tits. Unfortunately, once darling comes along into his life, he redirects all that perversion that was once spread across the entire female population of Mondstadt, onto one person.

 It's important to note that he uses his cute, somewhat effeminate appearances to get out of any real consequences -- over time, he's learned he can get away with it like that, so he has no shame and no hesitancy. He's not like those gross guys (who are, you know, tall, bearded, gruff-looking, everything he's not) in bars that grope and say gross things and get rightfully slapped or have drinks thrown at them, no, he can just flash a sweet smile and he's used to being forgiven for anything. He's not a big or intimidating guy, so most women he's ever interacted with or bumped into just roll their eyes or even find his behaviors a bit cute, ruffle his hair a bit and leave him alone. Should darling actually get mad about it, he can just get watery-eyed and let his head fall a bit... sorry... He didn't mean anything bad... you'll forgive him right...?

 That being said, it backfires against him. He enjoys using his youthful appearance to get his out of the consequences of his actions, but is taken aback when you consequently actually try to treat him like a teen boy or something. You should know he's way older than that, why are you talking to him like he's a kid, talking down to him as if he's stupid or naive? Or, gods forbid, you hit him with the 'you're like a little brother to me!' line, that would basically gut his heart out of his body. It starts to give him a bit of a masculinity crisis. Do you not take him seriously because he's short and slender? Do you not see him as A Man™?? Does he need to be taller? More muscular? It starts to get to his head. He has to try to make up for it. He'll start trying to be more impressive, trying to perform feats of strength and/or competency and make sure darling is watching.

 If all else fails, he can spring the revelation he's been planning for a while on you. After all, you'll totally respect him and fall for him if he has power, right? He's seen a lot of women that go for men with a lot of power. So revealing his archon status is a good step towards that. You probably wanna worship him now, right?? He will gladly accept, in fact, he has several highly suggested forms of worship that would be especially appreciated, if you'll hear him out...

 But in general, he can and will get very very pushy if he's still not reaching the goal. Oh, you're waiting for the right person or marriage or something? Something about purity or chastity? Well, you know, if it's with a god, it basically cancels out and makes you extra pure. You're worried about judgement? Don't worry, he'll never judge you (as long as the person you're sleeping with is him and not someone else, of course, in which case maybe you should just be judged for your taste in guys). He just pushes and pushes and talks his way out of every excuse you can give. He will stop at absolutely nothing, will go to any lengths, just to bust a nut in you. Please. What more do you want?

 In the end, he actually has very little respect for your autonomy and will, if it's what he doesn't like. His respect is a bit performative, and only lasts as long as he's under the impression that he's getting closer to his goal. Then he starts to test boundaries. You say you don't like touches, but certainly if he just keeps doing it, you'll get used to it. And again, he can always get out of your anger by putting on a cute face, no? That's the issue with that whole thing -- he's so used to it that he uses it as a default excuse to do bad things in the first place, the security of having that to fall back on makes him much more bold and willing to violate little boundaries until he can work his way in.

 Also, that whole "City of Freedom" thing backfires likewise if he realizes darling has been... taking advantage of that. Mondstadt's favorite bar maid or nun or whatever you are has a favorite pastime, and it's sleeping around? The horror. He's... conflicted... this is technically what he envisioned for this city, a place people could do whatever they wanted, but... but...!!! Darling's choices are bad for her, right? Maybe he can uh... appear to one of the nuns in a "vision" (think like he did with Stanley), pass on the divine message that they've had it wrong this whole time and promiscuity is actually like super duper bad. You can only sleep around as uh, acts of charity... for people in freelance occupations, such as bards, for example.

 ------

 Razor also has the best intentions, but it's... less wholesome than some of the ones above. It's just... he sees everything very naturalistically, very black and white. Definitely thinks of things in terms of "nature" being right because it's all he knows, so... Strength is the be-all-end-all determiner of position in his world. That's why pack leaders and the like exist, they fight for it. Why would you think you two are the same? You're clearly weaker. Your protests don't make sense. Do you not know? Here, he'll show you, see, he can pick you up and pin you down and you can't do either of those things to him because you're weak. Very weak! (He has been working on use of simple adverbs like that, please be proud of him...). So, now you understand why you're supposed to do what he wants right? What? What do you mean that doesn't matter? What else would you base these things on?? What are these "rights" and "free will" you keep going on about, and... "au-to-no-mee...?" You're just confusing him now.

 In all seriousness, with most gender-related things altogether, he just has absolutely no idea what you're talking about. This is especially true the more complex you're getting. He understands... that females are weak, and males are strong. That's... about the limit of his understanding. Anything beyond that is just met with a blank stare. He has no concept of things like autonomy, stereotypes, prejudices, anything of the sort. The only "right" he's familiar with is the opposite of "left" (and he gets which word is which direction confused sometimes). Nothing socially complex. Which, if you ask him, he knows all he needs to know. It sounds like these words you keep using are just things that only apply to humans that live with other humans in big cities and stuff, so it's pointless to talk about it when you live out here with him.

 This makes him somewhat frustrating to deal with, because he literally cannot be reasoned with. With our other boys, even if they staunchly disagree with you, see you as inferior, etc, you can still argue with them about it, still have back-and-forth dialogue, they still understand what you mean when you argue that you have the right to be free and do what you want, or when you accuse them of being prejudiced, even if they dismiss the idea. There's a catharsis in merely arguing and at least being heard, knowing the other person understands the meaning of your words. But that's not the case with Razor. You cannot have a discussion when he doesn't understand the very concepts in the first place, and this makes conversation on the matter impossible. Something about being trapped with someone on whom logic is lost, where your very valid points fall on deaf ears, is infuriating, as you quickly discover. It's like talking to a brick wall, except the brick wall may actually have him beat by a few IQ points.

 So, while he doesn't understand any of that stuff you go on about, he has another pressing concern, much more important than whatever you're talking about. You must have lots of puppies, and every second you spend not knocked up is wasted time in that regard. That's like the whole purpose of your life, right? That's the purpose of all life, to be fair, he thinks, either making puppies or having them, and he can get all the food you need and bring it back, and protect you from enemies! You just have to take care of the puppies. This is a good setup. It works for the wolves, after all.

 But back to general issues, or lack thereof, he doesn't really understand the concept of sexes to begin with outside of very obvious physical traits (he can distinguish a little bit, but only general traits that are not always accurate -- taller versus shorter, high voice and low voice, curved and not curved, and that's about it), and his vague, very limited understanding of social norms, so on the bright side you'll actually be free from some of the cultural expectations of women. He doesn't really care if you curse a lot or what kind of language/speech you use (as long as he can understand it, no big confusing words please), you won't be held to any standards of appearances, nor of "appropriateness" or "ladylikeness." It's a breath of fresh air compared to some of the others in that regard.

 He's just a little taken aback and confused when you don't want to cooperate with him, or more importantly, mate with him. He's never seen anything different... the males go hunt food and defend the pack from enemies, and the females mate with them and have the pups and nurse them and... that's how things go. He's just very confused by it all. Unfortunately, he has pretty limited patience and no real desire to understand, so ultimately he just gets frustrated and will force whatever he wants.

 Whenever you're still in the non-kidnapped stage, you really get a taste of that mating competition thing someone once told you about wolves. Again, he knows no better, he has no reason to think the humans operate any differently than what he's used to. Our boy is unnecessarily and instantly aggressive towards other men, glaring and even audibly growling just over the offense of them coming up to speak to you. It's rather embarrassing, really, since it's so obvious what he's trying to do and why. He stands super close to you, tries to physically stand in between you and other men. They keep coming up to you, no matter how many times he rubs your faces together and licks you to get his scent on you! Normally that is a clear warning sign between wolves that you're taken, but it seems the humans ignore it entirely, and it leaves him feeling uncertain of what else he can do... so he just becomes more protective and vigilant. God forbid another man were to touch you, because he takes that as a direct challenge, trying to steal you. Well, if they want to steal you away, they have to fight to the death first, which he's very willing to do at a moment's notice, not even the slightest hesitation.

 Finally, he also has no concept of chastity or promiscuity and won't ever think to ask if you've had other partners before, as wolves mate for life... but still, it's wise not to mention if you have. It... makes him feel something bad that he doesn't like. A bad feeling in his chest and stomach. He doesn't like thinking about it. He didn't even get to fight them! Is that why you're so difficult? Maybe he just needs to fight that other guy and kill him, then you'd like him a lot more once you know he's stronger... maybe that is the issue, that's why you're not being a very good mate, because he hasn't proven he's the strongest yet. Well, if you tell him where they live, he can bring the body back to you so you can see... but for some reason, you refuse to tell him.

 Also, thankfully, he doesn't use intellect against you, like some people might claim to be inherently smarter than you and thereby superior. He doesn't factor intelligence into his way of thinking at all, for, ah, obvious reasons.

  ------

I already mentioned Xingqiu being a sexist rich boy before (here) but like. Ugh. He is the most entitled little brat sometimes, underneath his generally pleasant demeanor -- it's more like he maintains that general niceness up until he stops getting his way.

 He feels like he can just buy you over because... girls like pretty things right? He sees it as a formula, you buy a certain amount of shiny, pretty materialistic things, keep giving them as gifts, and boom, you have a wife. What, what do you mean girls are each unique human beings with discernment and individual tastes?? They care about things other than just money and buying stuff? Well, then it becomes passive-aggressive commentary (read: not-so-subtle whining) about you being "complicated," why is there no easy formula to follow to win you over? After all, he has a very simple way to win him over, just be nice and obedient and worship him. How unfair.

 He's definitely used to a home environment where his mom was kinda a trophy wife, she's super submissive and obedient and does whatever his dad wants, and he expects the same from his cute little wife too. And of course, his mom always dresses very revealingly and sits in father's lap whenever he's meeting with business partners like a cute trophy to show off... and again, he expects the same. He's got this image in his head of how things will go, a sort of fantasy he's too naive to realize might not go as smoothly as he thinks, so he's genuinely baffled when you start off resistant. How unexpected. Maybe you just need to get used to being here? Maybe you're hormonal? Maybe he did something to make you mad and he needs to buy you something or do something to get you to settle down? Who knows what the issue could be.

 After all, he truly believes that the state of the women he's used to seeing -- submissive, quiet eye-candy wives that are extremely docile, agreeable, and happy all the time -- is the default state of girls. That's what they're naturally like, anything else is a disruption of their normal state that can be remedied. He is entirely unaware of, and has never considered, the possibility that maybe, just maybe, those women are sacrificing the freedom to speak their mind and behave the way they want in order to have a super rich husband... it really has never occurred to him.

 And if you tell him such, that you have your own thoughts and desires that don't revolve around what he wants, that the women he's used to seeing are only behaving the way they do for the benefits of their marriages, it leaves him somewhat shocked. Because, well, that does make sense, but it's just something incomprehensible. He reaches his own conclusion... perhaps, just maybe, he might be willing to accept that women are unique individual human beings, and not a monolith, as he previously believed. This is a big transition in his way of thinking, he'll have you know. In which case, you're still wrong about them -- that's how they are, all docile and sweet, you're just different. However, it does stand to reason, that you can be converted into being more like them. People are subject to change. So really, you end up back where you started, with him believing you just have to be won over with some set of actions that will eventually cause you to become the ideal he wants.

 He perpetuates the sort of system you're subjected to by participating in it -- his family more or less buys you by persuading your own family to give you over for a massive sum. Regardless of your background, the brat practically begged his father into securing you for him, which, if you weren't of an equally wealthy family, was quite the struggle to convince him, so hey, he's already put a lot of effort in you know? To be honest, the thought of you refusing doesn't really cross his mind... that's not how these things work. Even if you do, of course, getting your family to write such, his father just shields him from finding out about that rejection, and instead sends a second offer to your family... with a new, higher sum they can't bring themselves to refuse.

 And from the moment he... obtains you, he wants to show you off like a trophy, following that same example of what he's seen the men in wealthy social circles do, what he's observed his whole life. In the world of the elite, when you have something that makes other people envy you, when you have something shiny and new and want people to be jealous of it, you put it on display. Besides, it's sort of a masculinity thing with those types as well, the need to have a female on display as if to show off that look, this is mine. So he does -- puts you in clothes that make you uncomfortable, drags you everywhere with a firm grip and a smile, gets you to sit pressed up against him or on his lap when he meets with others. Also, rich people fancy clothing is heavy and uncomfortable, ugh. You never realized until now how many layers and unnecessary little pieces there are to this stuff.

 And what's much, much worse, is that you will be held to certain standards among his culture and class. He sneakily elbows you in the side when he introduces you to his friends as a quick reminder, because you were looking them in the eye when you're supposed to look at the ground when you speak to men who aren't him, taps your foot with his under the table when you make the mistake of forgetting that even when someone asks you a question, you're supposed to let him answer the question for you, unless he indicates otherwise. It's ok, he can excuse it the first time or two, you're just... getting adjusted. You didn't mean to do it. Just don't do it again.

 Honestly he doesn't outright tell you from the beginning that he expects obedience and compliance -- again, in his mind it's such a given, so ingrained as normal that he doesn't even think about it, and your defiance comes as a shock because he's never even really thought about such a thing. As soon as you're settled into forcibly married life, the first few days he just gives commands without thinking much of it... and is taken aback when you say no. He's not even certain that word is supposed to be in your vocabulary... It shatters the whole illusion of the submissive obedient wife thing. That's no good. But, ah, his father prepared him for moments like this. He just has to give you some money or a gift and an empty apology and then you'll be happy again. No? Ugh, you're being complicated again...

 He attributes it to a class or culture thing, if you're not from Liyue or simply not as wealthy. It's not your fault, you just came from... a less dignified background. Just give it time. Time and effort and reprimanding when necessary, but he trusts that you'll change and become the ideal wife in his head with time. And then, you'll stop bringing up all the dumb stuff you keep complaining about, like saying he's prejudiced or entitled, how you're in control of your body, blah blah... until then, it just goes in one ear and out the other.

 -----

 You'd think Kazuha would be one of the mildest offenders, yeah? Well, you'd be wrong.

 First of all, he's very, very unrealistic when it comes to projections of you in his head. When he imagines what you'll be like once you're with him, it's very idealistic and appeals to virtually every horny young boy's most eyeroll-worthy fantasies... but unlike most guys, he fails to realize how inaccurate to reality his fantasies are. He envisions this perfect "you" that never disagrees with anything he says, will do anything he asks, is always in a good mood, always affectionate, always horny, eager to go at it at a moment's notice. Always sweet and never mean. You'll hate every other guy that exists and only love him. He's quite disappointed to find out you're, you know, just like a guy, with varying emotions and moods depending on the timing and context. But that's okay. He still loves you. Even if he is disappointed.

 Then there's the actual negative things. The thing is... he doesn't realize it's bad. He's worse than Bennett/Chongyun/Thoma/Venti in terms of the actual things he thinks and does and says, but unlike some of the boys higher up on this list, he... doesn't even realize it might be offensive, the notion doesn't really cross his mind, it's so ingrained. He doesn't say anything in a degrading or authoritative tone. He says everything with that same soft smile and gentle voice as always, which makes the words themselves take a moment to process, and come as that much more of a shock, you question if you heard him wrong.

 If you're out wandering the land with him, camping out at night, he tells you not to worry, he can take care of the important stuff, and you can do the girl jobs, he adds with that same soft smile, pointing over to the fire and food you brought with you. You find yourself blinking, not sure if you heard him right... surely he doesn't seem like the type to actually think that way.

 And then, you start to think he thinks of you as fragile. He intervenes once, when you encounter very simple monsters on the road. No, no fighting for you... let him do that. It's mocking, really, even though he doesn't intend it that way -- he just can't help but sort of chuckle, you were actually about to draw a sword on those monsters, weren't you? That's so cute, you were actually going to try and fight them. Well, good thing he was here. You really make him worry about you, he hopes you don't actually think you could take anything on by yourself, do you...?

 And even after that, a few days later, you ask him why he can't trust you to at least go get the two of you supplies at least once... he tilts his head. Well, that's obvious, you'd go running off with someone else, as soon as you were presented with the option. It's okay, he knows you just can't control yourself, it's not your fault, it's just how you're... hardwired. Once again, said in that same soft, gentle voice he always has, as if he's talking about anything else, gives you a pat on the head as he speaks, not even noticing you staring at him in bewilderment. He says the things he says so sweetly, you have to take a moment to process before you realize how awful the words themselves actually were.

 When you get mad at him once, for a very valid reason, you quickly realize he has no intention of taking your anger seriously. He just smiles. Getting so upset over nothing... ah, are you hormonal today? Is it a cycle related thing? That explains it. Not for so much as a second does he seem to consider that maybe he was in the wrong and you have a reason to be mad. Your emotions and anger must automatically be due to something that invalidates your feelings, and is something he can tease and even belittle you for, in that soft way of his. This aspect is really bad, because you'll notice it repeats over and over, he never views your anger as valid. It's just hormones, a tantrum, or, as he once says when you get mad over something, just how you all are, getting upset over such little things... you don't bother to ask him what he means by that.

 When you finally snap at him about that specifically, he reacts with surprise. Why are you upset? It's not bad. What's that... You think he treats you like you're some kind of lesser?

 Well of course he does... with that same soft, precious little smile, and the slightest chuckle of amusement, he adds... because you are.

 You get another pat on the head as he speaks. It's not a bad thing. He's not sure why you're so upset about it. Everything has its place in nature, in the world, you're no different. There's no reason to get upset over it. He takes good care of you, and loves you a lot, so there's no need for you to worry about something so trivial. He doesn't even consider that you might find it derogatory or upsetting. It's just how things are. He thought everyone knew that? Why would that upset you? Besides, it's not like it causes you harm, it makes things easier for you if anything. You don't have to worry about the mentally taxing burden of making decisions for yourself. You can just leave that to him. He doesn't really get why this seems to make you upset, but if you're worried it'll make him treat you poorly, don't. He would never do that, so don't worry about it.

 It leaves you slack-jawed and somewhat shocked, but at first, you decide you have enough problems already, you can ignore him for now, as annoying as his attitude is. It becomes... increasingly difficult, once his thoughts start affecting expectations on you. You have been pretty docile and compliant thus far, realizing the position you were in and trying to earn your captor's trust, but that becomes more difficult with time. You start not wanting to follow the commands you're given (given so sweetly and with such a soft smile so that you actually didn't realize the wording was phrased more as a command and not a request until you stop to think about it...). You start becoming defiant.

 Oh... he feels some guilt. That's definitely his fault. He wasn't firm enough with you. Things... work best when everything performs its role correctly, you know? Couples also have roles, he thinks. Yours is to make him happy, be good, and take care of his needs, and his is to make sure you're safe and keep you in line, that's what he was always taught at least. So, really, if you fail at your job, it means he wasn't doing his right. So he'll have to be firmer with you, even though firmness is not his strong suit. He lets a lot of things slide, you know, you should probably be punished every now and then, for your own good. You may not understand it at the time, but it's for your benefit.

 Kazuha is also quietly a bit... critical (read: judgemental and insecure) of your, ah, choices. In a nice way! It's just... You know, when he met you, admittedly part of the reason he noticed you was because what you were wearing at the moment was... eye-catching. And you, ah, really made an active choice to dress that way didn't you? Which was actually a good thing, since it caught his eye and all, but still, other people are going to see you, too. You really should have thought more before you were going outside like that. It worries him to think that you are so naive that you thought that that was safe to wear...  but no worries, he can choose clothes for you from now on, whenever you're going into a public area, make sure you're not going to draw too many eyes.

 And if the opposite issue, that what you were wearing wasn't feminine enough, he wouldn't force you into femininity standards... He just encourages them. No, he has no idea what happened to your shirt and pants you were wearing for the outdoors, the cloth in the fire is just some old rags he tossed in overnight... But look, he already got you replacement clothes. These are the superior option anyway, skirts provide a better view when he's behind or below you and easier access -- er, easier for you to maneuver in.

 Similarly, behavioral standards are just there to keep you safe, and he can be lenient on many of them, he's not going to reprimand you just because you sit or carry yourself or talk a certain way, that's all fine. He'll still question some things, though, when it comes to interactions... because he has a certain paranoia.

 Which brings us to one more thing. Kazuha has been... influenced... by the sailors back when he was with the Crux fleet, on a very specific paranoia. Sailors are not known for being the most reserved and clean in regards to conversational topics. A bunch of older, often middle-aged men gathered around on the ship late at night, telling their tales of woe from their younger days or even their current frustrations -- and being sailors, who are gone on long voyages away from home, a lot of them have had some encounter with infidelity in their lives. They sigh and they grumble and at some point one of them turns to him, the poor misfit in the conversation that he is, and tells him to be smarter than they were and always watch his woman, because all of them deep down are whores. If he ever gets one, they tell him, gotta keep a proverbial leash on her, or she won't be yours for long.

Poor thing at the time just sort of gives a wide-eyed stare and awkwardly nods, but it eats away at him. Well, who would dismiss the advice of their elders? Once you come along, he takes it to heart. A little too much. He was already a rather possessive person by nature, but by the time darling comes along he's got a deep cheating paranoia. Unfortunately, he ends up going back to said crew members, after encountering them once again, for more advice, who end up only making it worse and filling his head with even more ideas. That it's in their nature. To go out and breed, get pregnant from the strongest mate they can find. Poor things just can't control themselves, so they told him, it's pitiful for their sake really. (Never mind the fact that boys will practically throw themselves off a cliff if it means they stand a chance of getting laid... that's different.)

 And the paranoia does certainly show itself. He gets uncharacteristically upset by you talking to other men, and in general becomes way too aggressive towards any other male. He's fairly quiet on the outside, merely a stern sort of pout on his face, but internally he's having horrible thoughts -- you probably want to have sex with them, too. If he wasn't here, maybe if he'd let you go run this errand or meet this other guy by yourself instead of coming with you, you'd be fucking him right now. He clenches his fist and grinds his teeth whenever you smile or laugh at the other guy. You're probably thinking about fucking him aren't you? The thought of it being, you know, a normal friendly human interaction... it doesn't even cross his mind. No, you definitely would if you could, this is proof those guys were right about what they told him. He becomes fairly hostile towards others, often giving them passive aggressive smiles as he stands behind you that are still very clearly interpreted as telling them to back off. He tries to hold it in, but at some point inevitably end up blurting out the question of do you like them more than me?  You don't think about anyone else when you're doing stuff with him, right? You should stop speaking to them. And don't speak to other women either. They'll just encourage you to cheat and justify it. Stop being around anyone else altogether. You don't need to talk to anyone, he can do all that for you.

 There's one more issue to be addressed, regarding that, which he'll get out of the way early on to know how paranoid he needs to be. Out of pure curiosity... What's your history like? Don't worry, you're not going to upset him. He understands that people make mistakes. Your mistakes just happen to be sleeping with anyone who wasn't him. He can forgive you. He just needs to know, so he can have a better gauge of just how much he needs to worry. ...Why does that seem to upset you? It's common knowledge, he thought, that the higher your body count, the more likely you are to... have challenges staying loyal. He's just trying to help you with that, that's all. You're getting so upset now, saying mean things about him that he's some kind of bad person for judging you based on that... see, there you go with getting upset over nothing again. But don't worry, it's cute, in a way.

-----

 Xiao is sort of a unique case, mostly because he's a bit too disconnected to fully understand these things to begin with. Human women are some sort of foreign, alien species to him. But, rather hilariously, his primary feeling towards women is that he's... intimidated.

 In his defense, your kind are terrifying. Unfortunately, due to his lack of interaction, he has to go on the words of wisdom (read: random laborers' and drunk inn-goers' ramblings) of human men to learn what women are like. In other words, he gets all of his information secondhand and firmly believes that, thanks to his listening in on conversations, he has received a thorough education on them and their ways, takes whatever they say as the truth. This... Does not spell good things for a darling.

 From what he understands, there's all these special rules and guidelines you're supposed to follow when interacting with them... it's said that they speak cryptically, they say things where you're supposed to infer what they mean, because they don't say what they actually mean, you have to sort their words out like some sort of horrible, emotionally sadistic puzzle. Sometimes they will say they are fine, but they are not actually fine, they're upset, and then will get mad if one cannot decipher this. Worst of all, apparently they sometimes say something is fine to do, they will tell you it's fine, go ahead, do whatever you want, but then if you actually do it, they'll become angry. Sometimes they get very quiet and only answer questions with cold, short replies; this means they are upset, but for some incomprehensible reason, they do not want to tell the male why they are upset and he must figure it out himself. 

It sounds horrible. What is the reason for this behavior? He's not sure. Even the human men lament over their inability to understand women, he's heard them call the women "confusing," or "impossible to please," and if the human men feel that way, that means he doesn't stand a chance. Thus, his primary feelings towards a female human darling are just confusion and intimidation.

 But furthermore, he decides to do some preemptive observations by watching women that come through the inn as if he's taking notes on a wild species, but... That doesn't help much at all. He watches this one couple eating at the inn... everything seems to be going fine, and suddenly, the male seems to say or do one wrong thing, and the female snaps at him, becoming angry and yelling and lashing out, throws a drink at him, slaps him in the face, and storms off. He watches with wide eyes, recoiling from his perch somewhere up on the inn. The female wrath is horrifying. If you did that to him... it would hurt his feelings a lot... he can't have that. He's not even sure what the man did wrong, and from the looks of it, the man himself doesn't know what he did wrong either. Are the human women truly this volatile? It's even worse than he thought. He'd rather face a hundred monsters at once than be on the receiving end of that. Nothing is more frightening.

 It gets worse once he actually has you all captured and away from the world. Due to the fact that, in his pessimism, he tends to assume the worst of darling, constantly thinks that you do everything on purpose and are always trying to trick him -- well now, in addition to that he just pushes everything he doesn't understand, like, or want to deal with, onto the excuse of you being female. Again, he gets his ideas from what he's overheard... except, well, he gets a lot of bits and pieces of information and sort of puts them together himself, filling in the gaps based on what he comes up with that makes sense to him, and as you can imagine, this is not good. 

You are complaining about not having seen sunlight in several months, or crying over being tied up all the time? Hmph, that's just your hormones making you all emotional. ...Well, he's not entirely sure what hormones are... some incurable disease that affects only the female humans, makes them get upset all the time for no reason. They make you upset irrationally, so that must be the explanation for every time you are upset about anything he doesn't think you should be upset about.

 No, you can't go outside. He heard a bunch of drunk guys at the inn talking about their woes as they tend to do, several were talking about ex wives or ex girlfriends and claimed that human women will run off with another man the first opportunity they get, because they're never happy and content and always want to have more. Especially if they are mad or bitter (which he has reason to believe you are, since you complain about being here), they do it just to get revenge on the man, how awful. They're also insatiable, apparently, such was the term that was used. They have to have sex all the time, that's what gets their defiance and meanness out... probably by removing those bad hormones. Sort of like how exorcism rituals remove demons, or such is the comparison he thinks makes sense. So if you don't do it all the time, the disease will get worse and worse, you have to expel it with sex. Thankfully, he can provide that, so you won't need to get it elsewhere anyway. But logically, then, you should understand why he can't take you outside, it's a horrible idea.

 He has learned some tips, though. If they are defiant, once again, you just have to fuck them really hard, and then they'll go back to being obedient. A very helpful tip. When they are upset, you can make them happy again, and get them to stop being mean, by giving them gifts that they enjoy being recipients of, such as large amounts of flowers and things made out of gold and things that taste sweet. If you are ever mean to him, expect to wake up to a gigantic pile of qingxin by your bed (he did not think to remove all the dirt from the stems though...) that he spent several hours plucking off various mountaintops. Speaking of happiness, he's been alive a long time, he can remember a time when the human wives were all a lot more controlled, they were very obedient and docile, and stayed in their homes a lot. They seemed perfectly happy. Maybe you should try being more obedient, and you'd be happier. It would be a lot nicer for him too, he thinks, so it would be a win-win.

 On the bright side, although he has more of a cemented concept of what is considered standards of femininity than Razor, that sort of thing doesn't matter in terms of outward standards. He could care less about your posture or way of speaking or the way you dress, the length of your hair, the vulgarity of your language, things like that. He is (sometimes) aware of them, but doesn't care if you meet the ones like that, that are related to appearances and socially constructed concepts. It doesn't matter if you have short hair, boyish clothing (you won't need clothes with him anyway), speech filled with profanity or vulgarity, unfeminine posture or stance, etc. None of that matters. What matters is that you're nice. None of that scary human female stuff where they get all angry and yell... be sweet and happy all the time, and don't get upset over things, like he likes. And do all the things he tells you to. That's all. Oh, and don't fight the sex... it makes no sense for you to do that, since not only is it important to cure your issues, but also, that's your purpose in the first place.

 What? Degrading...? Why would you think that? See, the whole idea that being made for sex and babies is dehumanizing is kinda socially constructed in and of itself, so to him, he doesn't see why you would find such a thing offending. For him, it's just... obvious. Things are designed for the function for which they were created. Like how a cup is made to hold water. A lock is made to keep something closed off. Their very purpose is obvious through their characteristics. Why are living beings any different? Like how he is strong and has certain abilities, he's made to fight and protect you. 

You, weak as you are, clearly are not. But, you have these warm wet holes, they fit so snugly around his dick and squeeze it really nicely... and it fits inside perfectly, so it makes sense that it was intended for this purpose. You have hips, clearly designed on each side to be grabbed, your body has these curved parts that make it easier to hold onto. This seems like the obvious purpose. Your face and voice are nice to see and hear, and there is realistically no other purpose for such than just that. You are warm, this is pleasant. You have soft thighs and even softer tits, what other purpose could these things possibly have, if not for him to rest his head on? And when you consider the obvious purposes of your various parts, and that you as an entity are composed of said parts, your purpose as a whole being is clear -- your purpose is to be utilized. Why does it make you so upset for that to be acknowledged?

 Besides, you're irrational right? And if it's irrational, there's no point in even trying to understand it, to listen to you and process what you say. There's no point in hearing you out. He has heard it said that the women lie all the time for no reason. Well, you can't deceive him if he simply chooses not to entertain your claims in the first place.

 And you are very weak. Like... how the humans have some pets that are small and weak and cute, their sole purpose is to provide the owner with affection. Or fragile vases and decorative antiques, but they are very fragile and easily broken, so they must be preserved. You're like that. You have to be taken care of, protected. But it's not degrading, no. No matter how much you explain, he cannot comprehend why the idea of being a possession or property or designed for sex makes you feel bad. You're very valuable to him... that should be enough. In fact, all your nice parts make you even more valuable, because they provide you with more use! ...Saying so seems to only make you more upset though, and he's not sure why. It's all so confusing. He's starting to understand the human men's woes. They were right, you are impossible to understand.

 -----

 Kaeya is the absolute, complete, total epitome of a 'nice guy'. He thinks that him giving you the bare minimum of the basic respect for another human being possible is not only going above and beyond, but should be rewarded. Similar to Thoma but much more shamelessly, genuinely entitled, and far more aggressively acting on that entitlement, much more pushy, and expects results much sooner. Like, that's how it works yeah? Be nice to girl = get sex; it's a very simple formula that is supposed to apply under all conditions. Yeah, yeah, he'd totally be nice to you anyway, it's not like you have to, but like... well, to say he deserves it, it's not in a demanding way, just in a... logical way. He'd be nice to you no matter what, but it's only fair to have an expectation of reward. That's how the world works, you can't just expect people to always be good without providing them with incentives. 

And much like Venti, he's one of those guys that's very very all for the idea of liberation and stuff like that because that just makes it so much easier to get what he wants! And will pretend to be very pro-freedom and choices for girls... as long as those choices are the ones he wants you to make. It becomes blatantly obvious very quickly that every single nice word or action is just an attempt to get between your legs. And unfortunately for him, it seems to not be working.

 The other biggest offense is the massive slut-shaming. Like, what do you mean you slept with someone else before, ever? You just have no self respect, do you. Even if it's literally just one, he'll still find a way to make you feel bad about it. But uh, he does need to know the exact number... like immediately... not out of insecurity or anything, just... couples should be honest with each other, you know. Absolutely devastated if it's anything he considers "high" (read: 1=not great but okay, 2=pushing it, 3+=soul-crushing), but he keeps a smile no matter what, just sighs. You... probably just slept with so many people (yes, even if it's like 2-5 he'll still use 'many') because you're just so sweet and easily taken advantage of, yeah? You should be more discriminate and have some self respect and not just sleep around with anyone who wants it, make them work for it! Make them prove that they're genuinely nice people who really care about you. Like he is. Use him as a standard of comparison, yeah? He's the kind of person you should sleep with. ...Or maybe, like, the person, rather than just the type... and since you're so sweet, he knows you're not like, the kind of person who would ever be sexually active with more than one person at once, so there's... no need to worry... because if you were, you'd tell him, so he assumes.

 Yet, he also... Reverse slut shames? Like, what do you mean you won't sleep with him within two hours of knowing him? You're not like, a prude or something right? He says it with a chuckle in his tone, but there's some genuine concern there... Or maybe you just think you're too good for him and you're trying to play hard to get? Yeah, that sounds more likely. Trying to make him meet a bunch of requirements to sleep with you because you're a manipulative little thing... Well, he won't say that part out loud, but that's certainly his internal thoughts.

 He's also the type you can go to crying over a toxic relationship, being cheated on or abused... he'll comfort you alright (what an asshole! Who would do something like that? Someone who has something as great as you and was actually nice would appreciate it!), but be sure to alternate between what comes across as genuine comfort, mixed with the sentiment of "well you're the one that chose to fuck him :/ There were probably red flags you just ignored :/ You shouldn't have dated an asshole, you could have had a good guy (like me) :/" Just enough niceness to get you to second guess yourself when he goes in for the jabs -- he was being so nice just a moment ago, so maybe he didn't mean that other part in a mean way, right? Definitely the type to refer to himself as a "good" or "nice" guy (he's not) and say he would have been so much better (he'd be worse) and treat you with so much respect (he would not).

 If you sleep with someone else, you clearly have no common sense or self respect. You should think more highly of yourself than to give yourself away like that. But if you won't sleep with him, you're conceited, you really think too highly of yourself. Someone needs to pull you off your high horse and break the reality to you. You're not so great that someone like him is gonna wait around until you feel "ready" or whatever dumb excuse you're using.

 He's not gonna straight up whine, since that would be kinda pathetic... so if the smiles and charm doesn't work, he just gaslights you. It's been what, a week since you met? And you still haven't had sex even once! You know that's like, really abnormal for most couples, right? Do you really like him at all, even? Or are you just using him for money or favors or something? He's good at talking, guilting, gaslighting his way into it, using points he knows full well manipulates mentalities internalized within you through female socialization, like not wanting to be boring and not wanting to disappoint him and not wanting to be made out to be using someone. And gods forbid you pull some kind of 'until marriage' line. Oh, come on. That's outdated. No one does that anymore. Besides, the whole point of being able to have sex now is that it's more, uh, what's the word... empowering, right. Really, you're doing yourself a disservice by not having sex now. The only reason you're holding back is because you're been ingrained with this terrible notion by society that it's wrong, and that's why you've convinced yourself you're just someone that needs a while to feel comfortable. You poor thing. You really need to free your mind of that mentality.

 But no matter what happens, he will absolutely gaslight you into thinking it was your fault. He acts like you were doing something wrong and trying to be sneaky while he's super smart and clever for seeing through it, as if it were intentional on your end. Would definitely aim to pick at clothes -- you should know better than to go out dressed like that. You were trying to get guys' attention, probably manipulate them into buying you drinks or something with implied promises of getting laid but then you were just gonna bolt and not follow through. You totally wanted someone to see you like that and lust after you. You want guys to look at you and fantasize about putting their dick in you, to chase after you like hungry dogs. You really thought you could just do whatever you wanted, and not face any consequences, huh? You had to learn your lesson the hard way, thankfully at least from someone who cares about you.

 And that blame continues beyond clothes, too. You were acting really provocatively, too. You probably really wanted it, and didn't want to admit to it. You just feel embarrassed about what you did and now want to call it nonconsensual when you know full well it was consensual. See, that's the socially ingrained mentality again, just admit that you wanted it, he's not going to judge you... not out loud, at least. And no, you weren't drugged. You were very intoxicated, though. Not his fault, since he was totally just as drunk as you... but still, really, you're lucky it was him and not someone else. But really, allowing yourself to reach that point... what did you expect to happen? You made the choice to intoxicate yourself, knowing you were out in a public area with plenty of guys roaming around, you were basically aski-- ...well, he knows maybe that exact choice of words would be going too far, would make you mad. Ahem, you were certainly aware of the risk, and chose to take it anyway. So really, wasn't this the best possible outcome? You knew exactly what you were getting into, so foolish, but hey, he technically saved you from ending up waking up to someone much worse! He makes sure to paint a horrible image in your head so that you feel lucky, grateful even, and totally forgotten any ideas of accusing him of anything.

 Also, he can be very, very predatory in the sense that he will sense and target the exact type of girl he knows he can walk all over and she won't do anything. You're some sort of worker in the knight headquarters or something, not looking at you round a corner and bump right into him, papers getting strewn everywhere... and this girl, as he sees, is immediately apologetic, nearly hysterically so, stuttering apologies and panicking to pick up everything with trembling hands, you bow your head over and over, get teary-eyed even, and frantically say you're so sorry, that was my fault... oh... you're definitely that exact type of girl he was hoping to meet. A doormat that will do anything to make men happy. He imagines you would be so, so easy to manipulate. He knows full well that it's due to a socialization that girls get projected onto them, that they're pressured to behave that way, and that while the ones with a sense of self-worth usually overcome it and learn to stick up for themselves... the weak ones like you succumb to it. And really, isn't it better, then, that you get taken advantage of by someone who cares about you, rather than someone who would just use you and throw you away? He's doing you a favor, really.

 That's most likely what causes a fixation with you in the first place, and observing you, and some mild experimentation, proves all his initial assumptions correct. You will tolerate all the touches at work, you just stiffen and let it happen, you won't say a word to anyone. You'd probably rather do anything than disappoint a guy in authority over you. You'd probably do anything you're told to do, even if you don't want to, because you feel obligated to please. And you'd probably knowingly walk right into allowing yourself to be taken away, like a sheep to the slaughter. In other words, you're perfect.

 -----

 Zhongli is a different type of infuriating because of the infantilization you endure. Part of it, to be fair, is because at his age, he sort of inherently views you as not really any different than a child. If you're under 500 years old or so, you might as well have been born yesterday, naive and foolish and impulsive and all that. Likewise, a visionless human is practically as defenseless as a baby, in comparison to the sheer power he's both wielded and witnessed in his lifetime. You're helpless, like a little lost kitten or something.

 But it goes double for a female darling because, well, a mere mortal human is already fragile enough, but to be among the weaker, slower, smaller, less intelligent half of humanity just makes you that much more vulnerable. You're far too fragile, you see. In his mind, you will break at the slightest of force, you could never handle strenuous tasks or anything physically challenging.

 Which is, bizarrely, part of why he's especially likely to pick up some poor fighter darling he stumbles across. See, no matter how good at fighting you may appear to be, he rationalizes that you're merely just getting by, keeping your head barely above water, by sheer luck and utilizing strategy, not by any actual skill. He can instantly convince himself that you're actually in very, very urgent need, that you're barely getting by. Oh, you're probably so afraid, you've probably just so narrowly escaped defeat a multitude of times, unbelievable luck keeping you from ending up taken or worse. So, he's saving you from what would have inevitably happened to you eventually -- you would be defeated, captured, and... well, unpleasant things would happen to you. They would treat you terribly, merely use you... they wouldn't care for you like he does. And he does take good care of you, really, even if you often feel like you're going to blow a fuse from the attitude he has towards you.

 See, he also thinks this is more... suitable. Really, it's kind of unsavory for you to have been out there, fighting and roaming all free. It's a waste of your body, being put to use for something pointless and not what it was intended for. It's a waste of your time, which could have been spent making some man's life happier, which is far more important than whatever it was you were doing before. You have so much use and value, and you were out there wasting it! He understands why, though, you became disillusioned with your own power, overestimated yourself, allowed yourself to neglect your higher purpose and instead indulged in having personal goals and selfish wants and desires... luckily he took you away before that would have gotten you hurt. The downside of that is you perpetually insist you can take care of yourself, that you were doing just fine, that you would have been able to defeat anything that came after you... sigh. So naive. It's cute, really, like a child who doesn't understand how the adult world works, but is talking like they do, which is always quite amusing... you're like that. After all, women and children are somewhat alike in that way, they both like to avoid reality in favor of allowing themselves to believe they're far more powerful, capable, and knowledgeable than they actually are. You are so innocent, so unaware of how the world really is and how weak you truly are, no one was there to make sure you understood that.

 But sometimes, you force his hand. Sometimes you need to be shown, because you can't be reasoned with (although that's to be expected, of course, unreasonable by nature). Sometimes you need to be held down, need to be held still, just so you can fight and thrash about and finally understand where you stand. It makes your blood boil, your stomach churn to be talked down to, asked if you're done with your tantrum and can stop being so unreasonable now. Not that he gets too impatient with said tantrums... they're natural, bound to happen at times, given your nature, so he's patient in expecting you to calm down.

 He's patient with a reeducation on your ways as well. A lot of our boys react rather badly to a high-promiscuity darling, seeing her as needing change, needing to have her autonomy stripped away, punished for it even... Zhongli alleviates you of responsibility a bit more than that, though, paints a more innocent picture of you in his head, there's more pity. Sure, you were still out of control, breeding like a little rabbit in heat, but there's a lot more emphasis on how sad it is for you. You poor thing, you have these needs that have to be taken care of, and other people were taking advantage of you. It's not your fault you so desperately need to be bred, those others could see that, and used you.

 ...That being said. It is still an issue. He rationalizes your sexuality a little differently than most, should you turn out to have a rather active drive or active experiences. See, women are supposed to be more pure of mind and all that, they're naturally innocent and chaste, they aren't supposed to be lewd and perverse. But every now and then, and as is the case with you, there will be one with some sort of, ah, chemical imbalance, he guesses, causing the girl in question to crave sex and do unfeminine things that taint your purity, like masturbating and fantasizing and, if gone unchecked, fornication. That's no fault of your own, and really, you should have had special consideration -- a girl of that type should be married off as quickly as possible to a man that can... adequately handle that, and ensure those needs are met.

 Speaking of masturbating though, that's something off limits to you. You'll have to have some measures put in place to ensure you can't. Your pleasure is, like every other part of you, property, and you are not the one that gets to decide on it. That, too, seems to be something you have an issue with, no self control to prevent either of these things, and no one was given control over you to ensure you didn't engage in these behaviors.

 It's your upbringing's fault, really, they should've recognized your tendencies and dealt with that appropriately rather than allowing you to run off and become a slut, and the fault of all the men you know, since they manipulated you into it. It's not your fault. Your mind simply operates on physical sensations and urges and can't process consequences, and thus people take advantage of you, and that's precisely why you should have been watched over more carefully. But that works out decently in the end. Sometimes bad things happen for a reason, and for you, it was so that you could eventually end up with him.

 After all, this was all for your own wellbeing. He's lived long enough to have seen plenty of female warriors... they depend on cunning, agility, or powers unnatural to them, such as visions. But he's also seen many of them end up in situations where they are forced to rely on brute strength, and, well, that always ends very quickly. And it ends in the same way each time... said ending is not pleasant. He's seen plenty of female captains and generals and goddesses even, taken down and reduced to a mere slave or toy by someone who so easily overpowered them... it's unfortunate, and he wasn't going to let that happen to you. If it were a perfect world, perhaps it would be acceptable for you to run around on your own, but it isn't, which is why you must be protected from others and yourself alike, you need to be owned and controlled so you don't endanger yourself.

 ...Or, rather, in an alternate scenario, he may very well be the cause of that happening to you.

 Morax of many years ago was not quite so forgiving and patient as he would later become. Alternatively, in his more aggressive days, a goddess may have very well been the perfect target during the war or any number of other conflicts. He was a lot less patient... and a lot less tolerant. Now, he would find it amusing and cute, but in those days, being some cold, arrogant woman who thinks you're so great just because of godhood would merely get under his skin. It's like an insult, you know? You look down on him like you think you're better. And he doesn't take very kindly to those who try and act like they're superior. There's just some sort of instinctive, primal even, urge to put you in your place, ruin you and turn you into something he can own for himself. It's an intoxicating fantasy on its own, but it won't stay fantasy for very long... he tends to act on what he wants rather quickly.

 It also serves as a good model to the humans as to why it was wrong to ever hold you in any reverence. Don't they know that, even among themselves, there's a strength difference between their males and females? And yet they chose to worship you, undoubtedly knowing you were weak? Strange. Well, they'll get a good idea now, what with you being kept all naked and chained up on the ground, sitting at his feet. The way you practically tremble out of sheer rage, he can see it as you sit there, scowling and eyes watering, anger and humiliation swelling in your chest... it's endearing, really.

 But it was necessary -- your kind aren't meant to have pride. They're made to be humble. Just because you somehow managed to get out of line doesn't mean that he doesn't have a responsibility as a superior to you to ensure you get back in your place. You'll learn humility one way or another, along with obedience and all the other little things you're supposed to. You have a chain leash connected to the collar on your neck, so even now if he doesn't like your tone or body language, or if you somehow have the audacity to speak without permission, he can just give it a nice warning tug.

  -----

 Albedo and Scaramouche are both awful for the same reason -- they both have some bitterness, abandonment paranoia and horrible inferiority complexes (and consequently/defensively developed superiority ones) due to a female figure in their early lives, and have to overcompensate for it as a result. It basically amounts to that they have to have darling herself see herself as beneath them, they want to be looked up to, and will seethe over the slightest notion that you don't see yourself as just as inferior to them as they see you.

 However, they have another similarity in that they don't show these sentiments very much, at least not at the start. It's all internal thoughts and subtle, often passive-aggressive efforts. So they sort of have a silent power struggle, where they constantly want to be better than darling and feel threatened (or rather, it wounds that fragile masculinity, poor things) whenever darling is actually smart or strong or capable. Because if you're any of those things, that means there's a chance you won't see him as better than you!! And then he won't feel superior (and needed), and you might behave inappropriately (and not need him, and belittle him, and if you don't need him you can disregard him, he won't mean anything to you, and that would hurt...). That can't stand.

 Of course, then, it's easy to fall back on the comfort of the notion that oneself is inherently superior to someone else by nature, and thus that difference is innate, unchangeable, and will remain true no matter what, so there's no threat. Of course, this does not work out as well when darling wants to act in defiance of that.

 Honestly fem!darling brings out the absolute worst side of Albedo. Like, he's infinitely more obnoxious for a female darling than he would be a male one just because she triggers his complexes and, consequently, makes him feel a compulsion to constantly subtly remind her how much smarter and superior he is. He has a somewhat mix of a modest and prideful nature most of the time. For another guy, he can admit to having not known something, or someone else being more knowledgeable. You'll hear the occasional line out of him, he's very humble normally, especially when dealing with things that aren't his field: That's not really something I know a lot about... hm, I actually didn't know that... oh, that's just a guess, I don't really have sufficient experience on the matter...

But with female darling? No. That all goes out the window. He knows everything about everything that has ever existed and cannot be wrong and, most important of all, you are the opposite. He's infinitely smarter than you and more capable than you by nature and has to make sure you are very well aware of that fact. The thing is, he is very much NOT an outwardly assertive nor confrontational person, quite the opposite. His nature is to go about that subtly and passive-aggressively... except as time goes on, he gets more and more irritated that it's not working and starts to fail at the subtle part, and it results in obvious passive-aggressiveness.

 The worst position to be in would be some sort of assistant or scholar under him (prior to being snatched up and locked away somewhere). He has to make sure to make you feel dumb, or at least inferior. Can't have you feeling comparable. It's best if you are beneath him, but if you are actually intelligent -- or, gods forbid, better at his occupation than him -- he gets... twitchy. He stays silent a lot, maintains a neutral face, but you can feel a sort of... ominous tension in your interactions. He grips the papers he's holding rather tightly, so much so that by the time he hands them off to you, they have creases in them. It almost looks like he's clenching his jaw whenever you speak to him. All his movements are rough, the way he sets things down and moves things almost as if slamming them.

 He always makes sure to double-check your work "just in case" (silently seething when he realizes you made zero mistakes, he was hoping there would be something to correct you on and subtly exaggerate how badly you messed up...), chooses his words carefully to psychologically manipulate you (oh, he can handle the difficult part, you can do what's left... Or hey, maybe this is a bit too advanced for you, maybe you'd be better off with a simpler task...), or just outright holding you to unreasonable expectations of workload, acting as if it's a normal amount, in hopes you start to doubt yourself. And then, when you struggle to complete the enormous amount and insane difficulty of work given to you in such a short time frame... oh, don't worry, he's not upset. He thought it might be a little too much for you, it's his fault for overestima-- ah, not thinking it through. Here, why don't you do something you're better suited for, like uh... put these up on the shelf in alphabetical order. You can handle that, yeah?

 Basically it's just an attempt to gaslight you into believing that it's a normal amount of work, and that your failure to complete it in time is an issue with you, that you can't handle the normal amount of work and need to step down to something more within your capabilities. Make you feel stupid. Make you come to realize just how big the gap between the two of you is. Which is only how it should be, the term "natural order" exists for a reason.

 Also. Albedo is the worst about mansplaining. It's. Infuriating. Especially if darling isn't someone working with him, and thus has no experience in his line of work. It's part for self-reassurance that he's smarter than you and that you think so too, and part just wanting to be impressive. But it's not just alchemy, no, it's everything, it's like he thinks you were born yesterday and have to have basic concepts explained to you like you're a kid. It becomes infuriating very quickly. Like, yes, you understand how that thing works, everyone understands how that thing works, you don't need it explained, especially not with a not-so-subtle condescending tone. However, it's harder if it is something you don't know much about. He is a master of making up absolute bullshit on the spot about any topic he doesn't know about and saying it with full calm confidence, so he can make up literally anything and convince you he's right.

 But like he's not blatant and cocky about it, he does it in his very normal monotone, kinda flat voice, with just that slight hint of condescension. But that just makes it more effective, because it doesn't seem like he's showing off. It's very subtle, just like how he just kinda gives backhanded compliments that end up making you feel dumb.  He also does it with things that he has absolutely no reason to think he knows more about than you, things that apply to your own biology. Yes, he will mansplain periods, pregnancy, and your body to you, as if you are not literally the one who experiences those things and owns that body.

 And he gets more and more obvious with time as to the root of it all, more or less dropping any pretenses of fairness or trying to hide how he actually thinks once he finally decides enough is enough and that he needs to go ahead and get you locked inside to start working on reforming you. It quickly devolves from "you as an individual are falling behind and thereby inferior" and into "you must be inherently inferior because of what you are." But he doesn't really care if you realize why he thinks you're -- no, why you are inferior. You being offended and appalled doesn't change that he's right. He has really the same mentalities as others, but he uses big fancy words and pseudo-science to "explain" you and thus justify said mentality.

 Perhaps worst of all is the atrocious amounts of gross, outlandish pseudoscience that he chooses to believe because, well, he wants to. And he will attempt to spew the same bullshit to you too. Yes, you are hardwired to have a desire to be submissive. The only reason you don't feel it is because of social conditioning, society is way too lenient these days (despite the fact that the idea that you can be socially conditioned otherwise would contradict the idea that it's innate... well, whatever, that part's not important). But if you tried to behave properly, you'd actually be a lot happier. When you're obedient, it sets off receptors in your brain, gives you a big boost of happiness, you should try it. Also, you evolved to stay in smaller ranges of space like a home, which is why keeping you inside or within the encampment area boundaries all the time is for your own good. Oh, and when you get cum inside of you, it makes you pair-bond faster (this is why pulling out isn't an option, hopefully you can grasp that).

 You're naturally more emotional. Hormones, you know, and because that's... well that's just how your brain works. Lower IQ and all that. Yes he's very qualified to talk about brain science, but that's not important. Anyway, that's why your feelings on virtually everything don't really deserve to be taken seriously. It's not that you don't matter to him, of course not, it's just that your opinions don't matter. Big difference. There's no point in listening to your thoughts because they are going to be inherently swayed by your overemotional, illogical brain. And the fact that you refuse to accept that in and of itself is evidence to that -- see, if you were observant and logical and rational, you'd be able to humble yourself and acknowledge your inferiority. But because you're emotional by nature, you just get mad about it and stubbornly insist otherwise.

 It's all simply facts, the way things are. No use arguing against it... so don't. You're a lot more likeable when you're being nice and agreeable. There's a reason that's been a standard for so long, you know. It's simply the model that works best. You should just be loving and sweet and don't disagree or have any opinions or thoughts of your own and open your legs on command, and he can take care of everything else. Easy. It's good for him too. Yes, it's been proven that the depression from not getting sex when they want it can make a man's productivity fall by number-made-up-on-the-spot percent. You were never going to contribute anything of value back when he was entertaining your silly little fantasy of working alongside him, so if you really want to help so much, just be good for him. That's what works best, it's natural.

 And on that matter, perhaps it's that naturally inquisitive mind of his, but he does like to really observe your... decline. It's an experiment of it's own, in a way. Watching you gradually have what he says repeated to you so much that you start to believe it yourself. You start to feel inferior. You become more docile. More submissive. His talk of how you're so emotional and irrational gaslights you on your own sense of reason, makes you question if you can even trust your own thoughts. Eventually, you'll realize you can't... and come to rely on his instead, just as intended. Which is fine, that model of partnership has been what's kept humanity alive for so long.

  -

 Scaramouche is more... negative. You KNOW this boy resents women, has a complex for sure. There's definitely a subconscious power struggle in his head as a result of the whole origin thing, he has to feel more important and superior to you in every conceivable way. Yes, a power struggle... even though it's more or less completely fabricated in his head and more like him struggling with himself while you're blissfully unaware.

 Consequently, he just cannot stand the thought of a female having power over him in any way... Even the authority of the tsaritsa bothers him a little bit to be honest, he tries his best to ignore that, which is doable, since she's more distant. But if a woman was ever put in like, a position of authority directly above him to the point where she's constantly present and telling him what to do, it would drive him up the wall even more than it would if it were a guy in that same position. Like, it's just not right, you're supposed to be beneath him, not the other way around.

 But in that awful, horrible worst case scenario, or if you have a roughly equal position (also a horrible scenario, but slightly less so)... he struggles with it internally, having to come to terms with the idea that you're on equal footing and status, does that mean you're just as capable as him? Not that that's threatening or anything but -- wait. No, wait, there's a simple explanation. It certainly wasn't your brains or prowess or capabilities that got you anywhere in life. He forgot that you have the option of cheating your way to whatever you want, a free ticket to any position you desire -- all you have to do is sleep with the right person. Or people.

 He tells himself that you definitely fucked several people to get there, there's no way you could have ever earned that spot on your own. You just get to suck and ride your way to success, he has to actually be good at what he's doing. Not everyone can have it as easy as you. That's probably how you get everything in life, really, you've never had to work for anything, you just sell your body out enough and get everything taken care of for you. Not to mention, you're very manipulative, there's so many guys out there that will do whatever you want just for you to give them a passing glance. Pathetic, really. He hates guys like that, they enable conceited, stuck-up sluts like you.

 Honestly he's obsessive be it positive or negative, in your case something of both, but in many ways negative. It's almost a hate obsession, that turns into an attachment, but certainly starts off negative. He has to constantly put you down in his own head, in order to feel more confident that the two of you definitely aren't equal in any way and he has every right to look down on you. In fact, the tsaritsa probably gives you favoritism too, since you're both female, so you have her AND all the men in authority letting you climb ranks without any real effort on your part. It's unbelievable AND annoying that such a thing could happen, someone with no skill ending up in such a high rank.

 Also, a lot of his disdain comes from him being one of those guys that's secretly mad at himself for having so much lust and discomfort with it, but deflects blame onto you for causing that feeling. You come in one day wearing something too short on your thighs, too low on your chest, and he finds his eyes and mind drifting... only to snap out of it after a few moments. Intentional, of course. You want people to look at you. You would do something like that, no sense of dignity or self-respect. Well, too bad, you can get all the attention you want from all the lowlifes he watches drool over you (they're absolutely pathetic and it infuriates him to see them bend over backwards for you, you're manipulating them by... existing... with that body... and being generally pleasant, and you're just allowed to get away with that!), but not him, he's not about to waste his time looking at such an eyesore as your whorishness, he has better things to care about. He'd never waste his time even thinking about a whore that doesn't deserve a second glance. Yes, you'd probably open your legs for the first person that came by. You seem like the type.

 Or maybe not -- no, you're pretty... of course, that's the only thing you have going for you, but pretty ones like you are usually conceited and picky. You want to show off and get all the benefits and attention, lead people on but never put out. At least if you keep going like that, existing as a tease and never following through, you'll eventually get what's coming to you, and it'll be well-deserved.

 But it doesn't matter because he doesn't care about you. Not at all. You're like, not really a person, just a set of holes to be used by someone. And someone will, you seem irresponsible, someone's definitely gonna knock you up and then you'll be forced to step down. Or better yet, someone will finally have enough of your nonsense and knock you down a peg. Finally put you to use at something you're actually good at, like being a breeding machine, rather than wasting time and resources being an unproductive member who just exists to be eye candy for others. But he doesn't care. He's not going to lay awake at night seething over you and your dumb smile and useless body or anything.

 The thing is, all of this... is internal.

 You live in this man's head rent-free, the subject of his daily inner episodes of reasoning with himself on every insecurity by providing reasons to not feel threatened or intimidated by you, to remind himself he's better than you, utterly obsessing over his desire to put you down... meanwhile, you're pretty sure he's only acknowledged your existence like, once. It's entirely in his own head. He avoids interactions with you at all costs, whenever you're around he doesn't even bother looking up at you, and keeps a neutral, bored-looking face, merely seething on the inside at a distance because how dare you... have a body with all those curves and soft parts... and a voice that sounds so nice... and one time you walked past him really close and now he knows you smell so good too... ugh. If he's forced to interact with you, he'll just come across to you as bored, apathetic... like he doesn't care (because he doesn't), like you're wasting his time (because you are). Or, he may even put on the "decent human being" act even, knowing he either has to force that or risk being too obviously oddly bitter towards someone he's never really talked to.

 He does cope with the frustration in one way, though... he calls you certain terms, whenever he has unpleasant interactions. Grumbles and mutters them under his breath, quietly enough to not be heard, but just once or twice you catch the words just when you're walking off and he thinks you're out of earshot. Bitch. Slut. Whore. It's cathartic. Well, even though you hear it, it was probably directed at someone else, since you've never really interacted much and he has no reason to dislike you, right?

 Except he can find a reason to make you out to be a horrible person, regardless of personality. The doormat type that never sticks up for yourself, always apologetic and quiet? You just want people to feel pity for you, so you act pathetic. It's manipulative, you want people to forgive you whenever you screw up by being so pitiful they can't bring themselves to be mean to you. The happy ray of sunshine type who's friendly to everyone? It's all an act. You're probably a huge bitch underneath that, you're just nice to get on people's good side so you can learn more about them or manipulate them. That's taking into account, though, any female that isn't inherently self-sacrificing and doormat-ish and stands up for herself qualifies as a "huge bitch." The only truly good women are the ones that have no sense of self-worth.

 And worst of all, a stern, calloused, serious type? Takes no nonsense, never smiles, very firm and assertive? Ugh. Literally the worst type of female. You shouldn't be allowed to be like that. It makes him truly seethe, what gives you the right to be so confident and cold, especially to him? You think you're better than him, huh? No, no, you're coping. You're actually totally insecure deep down. Really, you're probably just bitter because you are a female... you probably wish you were a man so people would take you more seriously. Because you know no one actually does... and with good reason. You just don't like acknowledging that there's a good reason.

 After... obtaining you, though, he has to remind you, too. Remind you of what you're good for, put you in your place. You're so lucky you have some use to him.

 The name calling doesn't stop either, just a bit different. He does that thing, that horribly annoying thing that certain types of guys frequently do, where he seems to act as if you don't have a name and merely calls you by what you are. Come here, woman. Lots of little commands like that. Hey, at least it's not a derogatory name. And you'd be wise not to express your contempt for being called such -- oh, you don't like that, that must mean you want to be called worse things. No? Then don't complain in the first place.

 But he does get strict on standards. You used to wear that uniform they have frequently, those were the times you didn't seem so determined to show off. Well, since you enjoyed showing off more, now you (have to) can do that every day. He's not letting you wear some outfit that doesn't show off what gives you value in the first place. If you're gonna be a lap toy, you have to look nice.

 Not that it's your only function. Turns out you have several uses. Holes for use, a womb for impregnating. Tits for pillows. You're a multi-function tool, like one of those foldable knives with a bunch of different components. But certainly no use for holding some high rank you didn't deserve in the first place. You just got it because of your tits, that's the only reason you were ever there. You know that, yeah? He makes absolutely sure to remind you often. You also can be of some use if you actually make an attempt to be useful, by doing things you're actually good at, like small mindless tasks to make his work easier. It's not hard.

 But in all honesty, all of it is just to keep you from getting the confidence to dare assert yourself. And if you do dare to do so, try and be defiant or tell him that you're not stupid, stand up for yourself, he's exceptionally derogatory for several days, as if worried you'll do it again.

 Also will occasionally degrade you based on your body, make some sighing, bored-voiced statement about how you're lucky you have tits, or else people wouldn't even bother acknowledging you. And he just attributes any behavior he can to femininity. Darling is crying over anything at all? So emotional, typical female behavior. Probably doesn't even have a reason. You're mad? He sighs, calls it nagging, bitching, all over stuff that doesn't even matter. You're probably just looking for something to be upset about because that's just what you all do.

 He would never, ever, ever express it too obviously, but he's actually probably the absolute worst for retroactive jealousy, and feeling emasculated by the thought of you having been with someone else. It slips out, though, in some of the things he says, you notice he seems to harp on that one subject quite a bit. That you were probably a slut. You probably fucked every guy on your former team. You don't even know what your body count is, do you. Probably lost track. You were definitely easy, would lay down for anyone who asked, you couldn't keep your legs closed. Any insistence otherwise goes in one ear and out the other.

 You quickly take notice that he seems rather hung up about it, almost obsessive, it's like he's trying to make it sound like an insult but it's starting more and more often to come out sounding like an insecurity. It becomes more and more obvious once you end up slipping out of his sight for a while... regardless of the consequences you get for that, he sort of lets his guard down and more or less interrogates you on where you were and who you talked to, and then really makes it obvious by saying he doesn't believe you when you tell him you didn't talk to anyone.

 After all, once a slut, always a slut. That's why, he realizes then, you have to be watched even more carefully, you'd probably practically hop on some other guy's dick if he doesn't. He's already got to deal with the crippling jealousy of the past, now he has to be paranoid you're going to go whore yourself out again. It's not like you have the self-control to do otherwise, sluts never do. Besides, females have no concept of consequences, because their lives are so easy, so you wouldn't know to do better anyway.

 That's another thing -- it explains all of your behavioral issues. You're the problem, not his standards or rules. See, girls don't ever have to try at anything. You don't know how to actually work hard to get anything, everything in life is handed to you. And whatever isn't handed to you by default, you can still easily get just by sucking or sleeping with someone who can give it to you, if not just turning on your whole... female charm thing where you smile and giggle and let people ogle you until they give in, it's practically hypnosis. And of course, then, you can get whatever you want easily. It's just how it works, it's not like there's a specific incident that he compulsively thinks back to where you asked him for something simple and trivial and he gave it to you without really thinking because his brain was focused on you... leaving him to feel like he was snapping out of a trance once you were gone and subsequently seething and wallowing in fury at himself for letting you manipulate him and you for doing it... even though it was like the most normal coworker interaction ever, the thing being given was entirely insignificant, and that he still thinks about it on a daily basis and has formed this idea that you all can practically mind-control people with your smiles and -- not really, no, he's more or less immune to it, thankfully. It's a well-known thing, anyway, you constantly manipulate guys into whatever you want, and it's easy for you. Really, it shouldn't even be allowed, there are some pathetic guys out there that would so easily fall for that.

 Also, for both of him and Albedo... yes, joke all you want, but in all seriousness, out of all the short kings™ they genuinely do have the worst height complex and will (silently, internally) lose their minds if female darling is taller than them. They practically wince every time they're reminded of it. Like, that's not how it's supposed to work. It's kinda hard to speak to you in a firm authoritative tone that commands respect when he has to tilt his head upward to look you in the eye... all the more reason to keep you down on the ground in some way. But should you mock them, they pretend like it doesn't matter. You think that's going to get under his skin, huh? You're just being childish, it's not a big deal... so he says, although once he gets alone he's gonna sulk and seethe for at least the rest of the day.

 -----

(Previously discussed Childe (here) and (here) and Diluc (here)!)

 Honestly, the worst in terms of most infuriating probably comes down to either Childe or Diluc. Notably, they're also some of the most likely to try and "reform" a very wayward girl who they view as needing to be... Redirected. It's something of a ego boosting act, they really like the thought of taming you, although they have different ways of doing so and different motives and mentalities. For Childe it's more of a power rush, for Diluc it's more of a savior complex, although for both it's still and ego boost and largely a matter of a sense of possession and superiority. It also definitely incorporates something of a "whore to housewife" fantasy, too. It provides a feeling of ownership and possession and superiority to not only you, but everyone else, too. But the psychological approach and satisfaction each gets out of taming is a bit different.

 For Childe it's more of the thrill and rush of it all. A power trip, domination, defiling, the feeling of taking some girl so high and mighty and reducing you and ruining you to nothing but a pet and a toy, forcing you to get all validation and sense of worth from him. Make you into something owned. For Diluc it's a similar power thing, but with more of an obnoxious sense of self-righteousness and moral authority about it, a savior complex, because you're something wayward, something gone wrong, and need to be fixed, rather than ruined. Made perfect. Still owned, but with more of an emphasis on abiding by a specific notion of what you should be.

 Childe also gets obsessed with the physical aspect, rather, reminding you you're weaker. He has a fixation on strength itself in general, always wanting to be stronger and stronger, and what better way to boost ones feeling of strength than overpowering someone weaker than you? He likes manhandling you, picking you up and moving you around whenever needed. Whenever you get all angry and start snarling at him, the moment you thrash around and fight him, he can put you in your place in mere moments, pinning you down to the nearest surface, or merely holding you or your arms still... You can get back up, be released, when you apologize and ask for it nicely. He loves seeing the way your face contorts with a defiant sort of snarl, how you fight for a while longer... Besides, it gives him time to humiliate you further. Remember how you used to think you were so big and strong, huh? You remember that time you told him you could take him down with ease? What happened to that?

 Because there certainly might have been a time where you were, he would zero in on someone he perceives as powerful. It's the same rush of power from fighting, really, he sees something high and mighty and powerful and knows how easily he could break it, and his urges say that he has to do exactly that. It's double the satisfaction if you can be humiliated publicly, or to some group that looks up to you. Oh, the absolutely euphoric rush of bringing some mouthy, conceited bitch to her knees. Truly nothing in this world could bring him more joy. Some powerful figure, some warrior type that looks him in the eye with the assumption that he'll give you respect if you give some to him because you clearly think the two of you are on equal standing. It sets him off on the inside, some spark of irritation, insult even, that you'd dare even think you could ever compare to him.

 He's a patient man, though. Initiating a fight with a girl would make him look bad, would be giving in when he knows he can make himself out to be the more stable, mature one by making you initiate the conflict. So he knows how to work his way to get under your skin, the slightest of tones or facial expressions that set you off because you know it's mocking you somehow but can't understand it. Condescension so subtle you think at first you're imagining it.

 You come to realize it, but you know what the only acceptable response is. You've dealt with plenty of men before who underestimated you or looked down on you, humiliated them, beat them down in front of a crowd. He's not going to be any different, so you think.

 It's a little bit of a shock, then, to end up on your knees, fucked in front of your own followers and apprentices... Bruised and weak from exhaustion and quivering in sensation. Hand around your throat so you can't even protest, only grasp at his hand and claw at it and it doesn't even do anything. Eventually you give up. Your hands fall away. You just hang your head and sniffle. Aw, look at you, you're starting to get it! Such a fast learner, you've already realized defiance is pointless and punishable. What happened to the tough girl act though, huh? You were so mouthy before. But deep down you're just a fragile little girl, aren't you? It was so easy to make you cry and break you apart.

 Don't worry, though, he's here to put you back together... Make you better than you were before. Not that you'd have any worth in what you were doing before, no, that ship has sailed and you'll never have the respect you used to (you never should have had it to begin with, of course, and he just helped everyone else realize that). Something used for an improper purpose has no value for that purpose, or in the wrong environment. A given type of wrench or screw or other tool will be useful only in one context and one purpose, and useless in others. That's what your life so far has been like... trying to use a tool for the wrong purpose. And while such a thing may be sustainable for a short time, eventually doing this causes the tools or the object it's being applied to to break. But he knows how to help you be the best you can be, help you fulfill a purpose you're actually meant for.

 He's infuriatingly condescending, too, in the most mocking of ways. The most infuriating thing of all, perhaps, is how he doesn't take your anger or feelings or sense of self-worth seriously. Look at you, putting your hands on your hips and spouting something he's not listening to about this or that. You think your opinions matter? Aww. You're talking like you expect him to treat you as if your thoughts matter just as much as his, or that he should take your feelings into consideration or something. That's adorable. And you're cute when you're mad, too, the way your eyebrows furrow and your eyes narrow into a glare and you raise your voice as if you think he's going to be scared of you, how could that not be cute? He might even skip the punishment for getting an attitude. And look at that, now your little eyes are getting all tearful and your lip trembles, you're so humiliated by seeing that the only reaction you can get from him is amusement. It's euphoric. Look at you... how could you ever expect him to take you seriously? You can act all tough, but you're just a fragile little girl, aren't you? It's okay. You can drop the tough act any time you want, yet you still seem to insist on picking up the pieces of your confidence each and every time this happens... he likes that about you. It wouldn't be as fun if he could only break you once. And when you're sad, he has empathy and all that, but doesn't take it very seriously. Poor little thing, you want him to make you feel better...? After all, you're prone to intense, rapidly-changing emotions. If you were a guy, he'd know your emotions actually have a reason, but... well, yours are probably just over something silly.

 As for the whole slut-breaking fantasy, Childe is... opportunistic about it. Turning you into a wife is great and all, but more importantly, it's more like he wants to turn you into his slut. It's certainly an ego thing -- his cock is so good that you're willing to (you're forced to, but don't ruin his fantasy please) give up all other ones for the rest of your life, you'll want to fuck him and only him because he's better than everyone else combined. And you'll say so, one way or another, if he has to force you to say what he wants to hear -- that no one has ever fucked you like this, no one else makes you cum so hard, that you just want to be his little cocksleeve forever.

 Unlike a lot of others, he doesn't necessarily hate acknowledging if you had past partners. No, he even kinda likes it, because he's better than them. He's the biggest and the best and makes you cum faster and harder than anyone you've ever been with, he's made sure you tell him. That's why you're his now, that's how girls work. No different from animals... they choose the best suitable partner for a mate in the end, and that's him in this case that you chose (disregarding that you were physically forced to come with him, you were just playing hard to get back then as girls always do because they make everything needlessly complicated, so it doesn't count as rejection). And just like with animals, you want to be submissive.

 Sometimes you just have a funny way of showing it. Well, he understands it. The defiance and the spiritedness, it's all... a test. Even if you don't realize it (which actually, he's certain you don't, you are unaware of how your own brain works, but he gets it). Being defiant is just how you test him. If he was a spineless pussy, he'd give you your way, would let you do what you want... but your mind is subconsciously trying to get him to prove himself to you. It's cute, really. You have a duality. You want to be put in your place. Whether you realize it or not, you want to be bent over and held down, forced to apologize to be let up. Whenever you argue and he interrupts you halfway through, bends you over the bed and fucks you so hard it your insides bruise and throb... you get better. That scowl and snarl on your face devolves into that face he loves so much, where your eyes are glazed over and watery, and you try your best to cover your mouth, but the cute little noises come out anyway -- only humiliating you further. And you want that. Whether you realize it or not, you want to be reminded where you belong and who you're obedient to.

 That was what you really wanted, after all. Really, women sometimes argue just for that purpose. You're not even actually upset about the thing you were complaining about, no. You were just... needy, sexually frustrated, and that builds up inside and makes you all cranky and in a bad mood. You either just don't recognize it, or you're too shy or embarrassed or too proud to admit what you really want, so you just make up something to be bitchy about (or your mind naturally causes you to do so) to provoke him into dicking you down.

 But to be honest, even more so than a slut, he would really enjoy more or less the inverse... breaking a prude, a cold little bitch that doesn't want to put out. No matter how hard he tries! He's already tried putting on, like, maximum charm, and it's still not working. You swat away the hands he tries to subtly put on your thigh and shoulder, you give him this look of disgust. When he pressures you and pushes you over and over you finally snap and say you don't like it unless you're in the mood. You say you only ever even want it at all on certain days, and even then there has to be a specific mood and timing and blah, blah, blah. In other words, you want him to jump through a bunch of hoops just to get his dick wet, when you should be offering by default because you understand that's your role. You should be eager. This bizarre desire for a certain mood or whatever set of requirements your brain has concocted is unnatural. Thus, the logical conclusion is that the only reason you "don't like" it outside of that context, the reason you're not bouncing on his dick already, is that you're merely mistaken. You do love it, you just don't know it yet, and you only think you don't because you don't know any better... because you haven't had it done right.

 Yes, he is unfortunately, in all honesty, the "I can change your mind" guy. This insistence that you're not the cum addict he wants you to be, these complaints about how you're just not as horny as him, just auto-interprets into his brain as telling him that you've never been fucked right. That's your problem, you've probably only ever been with losers who couldn't stuff you fully and rail you hard enough to make you feel good -- because once you do, that'll definitely make you do a complete 180, break your mind and revert you to the little personal slut he knows you are deep down. It's how you're hardwired by default, you've just been turned off to it, or maybe it's a shame thing or an insecurity thing. Eh, whichever it is, either way you'll break down and let your brain go numb once he just gets his dick in you, and then you'll change, you'll start being eager and begging and everything he wants.

 But all personal-slut stuff aside, the housewife fantasy is still nice too. Cute domestic stuff. Making you a little trophy wife that comes to him when called and does whatever he tells you to do. Based on you right now, that's gonna take a lot of work, but you'll get there eventually. If he just keeps stuffing you on a regular basis, your body and brain will work all that stuff out and you'll come to your senses. Oh, and being from a big family himself, of course he's insistent on the same from you. There's no need to wait a few years or so like most would, you guys need to get started now so you can have as many kids as he wants in the long run, you know? Not a whole lot, just a dozen or so. Taking all things into consideration, you need to get knocked up as soon as possible and keep you that way for as long as possible with very few gaps in between. He can make it work, no need to have a stable situation beforehand. Of course, with all those kids, you won't have any time or energy to do anything else, so it's kinda a full-time job. Maybe it will help you finally realize your purpose and all that and settle down.

 No protests are going to be listened to, just so you know. Of course you say you don't want it, but that's just how you think now. Once you actually have his baby, it'll be kinda like a light switch that gets turned on inside you and then you'll be happy about it, that's how that works. Same way with everything else... you'll start to love it with time, once everything is done right.

  -----

  But yes to that one anon, Diluc is kinda in another tier of his own. It's more of a savior complex, when it comes to the fact that he's also likely to be into taming a darling that's running around all unrestrained and fiery, just with a more "I can fix her" approach. He sees you in your... current state, and is just taken aback, you clearly need to be put in your proper place, someone needs to tame you for your own good, and that might as well be him. Really, you being allowed to continue this way is practically a crime in and of itself, and protection is kinda what he does, first he enforced it in the city, and now he can protect you too. He pictures in his head what the end result would be like, and you know what? He sees potential in you. Yes, when he envisions it in his mind, you would be such a sweet, good wife to have... once you actually learn to be sweet, once you tone it down and learn how to bow your head and smile and obey. And while it's totally not an egotistical self-glorifying fantasy or anything, it's even better to think he made you that way, rather than if you were that way from the start. Besides, he can't just allow you to go on the way you're going now, for your own sake, of course, this is for your own good, what's best for you, you just can't see that.

 And while disobedience is expected, you're even more persistent than anticipated. It's a habit of yours that will have to be dealt with very quickly. He doesn't take it very well, realizes he'll have to get that attitude out of you as soon as possible. It's not becoming of you. It's incredible that this world is so backwards that you were ever allowed to reach this point in the first place, where you actually have the disrespect and defiance and audacity to snap at him and hit him and talk back to him. Really, what kind of people raised you? Or maybe, if you're not from Mondstadt, that might explain it. Maybe they just don't do things right wherever you're from. Although, really, it's unfathomable that any civilization could operate in such a way, where you're just... allowed to do whatever you want? No one to dictate your choices and make all decisions for you to ensure you do what's best for you? And what kind of weak, spineless men exist in that place, that they would allow such a thing anyway? Well, whatever. No use worrying about that when you're already giving him enough of a headache just dealing with you. What's important now is that he fixes you. He keeps telling himself the results will be worth it.

 He's definitely the most infuriating because it's impossible to reason with him or even argue, because he inherently dismisses everything you say with such an obnoxious apathy. Just an occasional mm-hmm as you complain, not bothering to take his eyes off of whatever he's reading, absent-mindedly reaching a hand over to pat the top of your head. Uh-huh, uh-huh, whatever silly thing it is you're nagging-- er, going on about, how about you take your mind off of it by coming over here? Just sit in his lap for a bit and calm down, you'll feel better. Or go... clean something, get that frustration out in a productive way. It's not a big deal. It's in your nature to complain about unimportant things. Actually... ah, he gets it. You're not even upset. You just want attention. He can give you a bit, but he does need to get work done, too. He can give you more attention when it's done.

 You also double as a sort of trophy. Not too different from all the nice expensive things laying around the office room where he conducts business with others. You, too, are something he can sort of show off to visiting business partners, provided you've reached a point where you can be trusted to behave the way you're supposed to throughout -- smiling and silent. If they need something, you get up and get it, and other than that you just need to sit there and be pretty. It's an easy job, so you should be grateful. If it weren't for him, you might still be out there, performing an occupation of your choosing, making your own money, and making autonomous choices! How awful, bet you're glad you're here now, where you're provided for. It's not good for you to work, after all. It would be weird, since you're supposed to be fully dependent.

 Overall, he definitely enforces standards of femininity way more than the others -- you have to dress a certain way, talk a certain way, act a certain way. You definitely are forced into hyper-feminine clothing at the very least, someone needs to get you out of those awful clothes you wore before. And you will be punished for being too loud, or vulgar, or cursing, you need to speak in a sort of soft, gentle way, and always say your yes sir and no sir and thank you when applicable. Smile when you talk to others, when guests are present too... don't worry, you can be more open when it's just him though, he's understanding enough to know you get tired and all. He'll correct little things, too. Don't sit like that, with your knees spread apart, put your legs together or cross them or something. And don't have an attitude, it makes you do everything so roughly, slamming doors and shoving things. Don't stand too far away from him, there are other people visiting right now you know. Don't speak to them or look them in the eye, either, it's improper.

 And most of all, stop trying to be so... so... assertive. He can't really think of the right word. It's just unnatural, this way you behave. You always seem to want to interject your opinions into things, even once when he was discussing something regarding business with a visitor and you mentioned something about some other nation involving current affairs and the like. Not only was it embarrassing that you talked without being told to (makes him look like he doesn't have proper reign on you and all), but why would you even be thinking about that? See, this is your problem. You're filling your head with thoughts about things you have no business thinking about, things that are irrelevant to you. Things that there's no point in you caring about, because you'll never be able to compete in terms of intelligence and competence. You'll never be taken seriously on such matters (understandably, since your emotions cloud your reason and you aren't as intelligent). Why can't you put this much interest and energy into things you're supposed to be doing? Sigh.

 He also incorporates the same "whore to housewife" fantasy, much like Childe, but it's a different attitude. It's not just about the ego boost, it's about it being the right thing to do. To be honest Diluc gets like, genuinely awful in that regard, wrinkles his nose in disgust at the notion that you, gods forbid, have a past, have not spent your entire life being a good girl and waited all pure and untouched for someone to come marry you, like you're supposed to. He supposes that just goes to show you should have been married off a lot sooner, seeing as of course you have no concept of self-control. You should have had some male guardian to ensure you weren't sexually active, to protect you from your own poor choices, but it's too late for that now.

 Still, you can be reformed. It's kind of sad, really, he has some pity for you. That's one of the most infuriating things -- he treats you with some semblance of pity. Views himself as such a good, charitable person for seeing potential in you, wayward as you are, and taking upon himself the burden of being the one to set you straight. But it's necessary, noble even. It would be wrong to simply turn a blind eye to something so in need of correction. If he sees a problem, he fixes it. Simple. And it's a win-win, because he can both fix you and help himself. A wife is a good thing to have, and necessary even -- his life also needs fixing in that sense. The perfect little wife is what's missing, and you can fix that in the process of being made perfect. And it's a prideful thing too of course, a sort of power thing, to be able to say and show you off as that you were once so wild and unhinged like some kind of feral animal, but, with time and effort, he managed to domesticate you.

 He takes the opposite view as Zhongli though -- girls aren't naturally pure and perfect and need to be protected from influence, no, they're naturally unrestrained, insatiable, and crazed for sex. Like a literal bitch in heat. It's part of why they can't be trusted to make decisions for themselves. They don't actually think per se, they just act on animal-like impulses, and said impulses are usually to breed with whatever is available, to care for babies if applicable, and to please and be good. Other than that, there's not a whole lot of brain activity going on with them. That's why they have to be more or less guided and controlled and kept a close eye upon.

 Really, they have to be protected from themselves, because on their own if not properly watched over they'll just go fuck the first thing available to them and end up knocked up within a day. Why do you think they used to be kept inside and watched over all the time? It was to prevent that from happening, of course. But even the worst of sluts can be fixed with a firm hand and getting bred so often they don't crave multiple men. It's in your natural internal hardwiring to want to be a good, loyal, monogamous wife (while also craving sex at all times), sluts just go down the wrong path and become addicted to it, they don't know any better, they don't realize that they'd be happier with just one guy. Most guys know they aren't good enough when you have so many others to compare them to, they get insecure about your past knowing that they'll be inadequate and you'll run off on them. Not him, though. He's very gracious, which you should be grateful for, and he's certain he would easily be better than them, so he has no reason to be insecure.

 That's why this is doing you a favor. Of course, given your... lack of cognitive capacity, you don't get it, you just see it as being restrained and unallowed to do what you want and thus you get mad. You're incapable of understanding why this is good for you. Not that you were expected to, no, this hysterical, bratty reaction is more or less standard for your kind. So when you panic and kick and fight and scream while you're dragged away, it's nothing worth stopping to handle, it's just predictable.

 On its own, your intensity of willpower is not a bad thing. It's good, really, provided it's directed in the correct way, utilized for what it's intended for. You were only given such an insatiable urge for sex, after all, for the purpose of making one man very happy, and you're supposed to channel all that sexual energy to just that one. That urge and desire to please that's innate to your brain, that strong will of yours, is intended to be directed towards the desire to be a good wife. Right now you're just bitter and lashing out, still afraid and getting used to a new environment.

 There's another issue, though, upon first obtaining you. You have to be married. It's improper otherwise, you know. Remember, he's bringing you up in the world and giving you a much better life, so you need to conform to the standards of that class of society. It's just the right thing to do, and you can't sleep together beforehand... Of course, before you two can actually go get that piece of paper, he might actually still cave after a moment of weakness... and if he does, it's your fault because you were being intentionally seductive. Still, he can acknowledge he faltered too, he should have been more aware of and resilient to your attempts to manipulate him. Everyone makes mistakes.

 Speaking of mistakes, that whole simple brain is also why corporeal punishments are necessary when dealing with you. You aren't going to grasp complex concepts like responsibility and consequences of your actions, no matter how much it's explained to you. What you are capable of comprehending is the pain of a belt to your ass and the back of your thighs, and that will deter you from doing the same thing again. It's unfortunately necessary. You won't respond to any other form of correction. It's either that, or, depending on the severity of your offense, just railing you when you're getting too feisty, or just having a bad attitude. Or both methods, that works too, really helps make the point sink in.

 Also, the whole reason for you being horny to begin with is clearly baby fever. You need to be bent and bred and stuffed with cum. No wonder you were so insatiable, you were using protection before! Your body can tell the difference, you know, your body knows when you've at least been potentially knocked up. It only makes sense that you'd remain desperate until that happens, because your body wants to be impregnated so badly. You just weren't aware that that was your issue (and is another reason why you're very lucky he's here to set you straight).

 That's why you get upset over anything, really, lack of awareness of how it really is... and it being in your nature. Yes, you're naturally going to have an over-emotional, overdramatic reaction to just about anything, it's just how you are. He can tolerate it... he finds it kind of cute, even... the realization of which just seems to make you angrier. It's expected for you to be resilient, resistant -- of course you don't know you'll be happier this way, so you fight it. Change can be scary, you're not used to it yet, so it just needs time... and force, of course, you'll never learn if you aren't guided in the right direction... you just need to be guided a little more firmly than others. Not that it's all negative, of course. Encouragement and positive reinforcement is necessary too. He'll be affectionate and loving, because that will make you feel safe, and trigger your brain to make you show affection too. It'll all work out in the end.

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 

--

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 

“And someone is responsible.” 

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 

“Saints.” 

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

--

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